Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed
by Dark-Knight27
Summary: Set two weeks after the events of Resident Evil 4: A certain government agent is now carrying a bullseye on his back. Albert Wesker wants Leon dead. And Ada's true goals will be challenged as she is forced to make a choice.
1. Chapter 1

_Well here it is; the first chapter of "Secrets Revealed" re-written. Don't really know if its any good but the original version - in my opinion - was written very badly so I thought I should do it again. Hopefully I will finish the whole thing. And I do not own Resident Evil; the game and its characters are the property of _Capcom.

**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter One**

**2004**

Daniel King hummed a silly tune, one that had been running circles through his head since the beginning of the job. He placed a set of discs into a small attaché case that lay on a desk near a wall of surveillance monitors; the contents of the screens had already offered him all he needed to know.

The mission had been a breeze, a retrieval job of the simplest kind. That was at least until now. Vacating the facility before the entire place went up in smoke would prove interesting, King thought, but interesting was usually somewhat more entertaining in his book. He had already set the auto destruct for five minutes, and now he had around four minutes left. Reaching the street level wouldn't take very long; it was now six in the evening, so if he was fast enough he'd make it out of the city within the next couple of hours. It would be as if he'd never been there.

The job had been easy enough: retrieve date and destroy anything left over. King's employer had, what could only be describes as, a powerful interest in what he might call "Valuable secrets", primarily involving the late great Umbrella Corporation. This had been the fourth abandoned lab that King had plundered in almost as many months, so he guessed that his boss had some grand design for all of this effort. Quite the ambitious man, to be sure.

King grabbed the case, and then turned to leave. Keeping his pace swift but not rushed, King wasn't going to spare any stress over the countdown; he had made it out of far more gruelling circumstances in even less time. In his entire career he couldn't recall an instant in the field when he had panicked over anything, certainly not the point of falling apart in the middle of an operation. A troubled heart and mind will never have a place in this line of work, at least that was his opinion on the matter.

King strode out of the surveillance room, walking down the length of a narrow passage; the metallic walls and grated flooring emanated some degree of cold, hitting his skin with a vague chill.

As he moved, he wondered what it was with all of these shrouded underground laboratories and steel corridors, resembling that of those funny evil lairs in James Bonds movies back in the day when it was cool to have a secret hideout inside a volcano. Umbrella's higher up; in King's opinion, just crusty senile old men with delusions of godhood. Their own so-called importance like a drug they couldn't get enough of. He never had cared much for those types, the kind that felt they had to micro-manage everything, that they must control every miniscule aspect of all that passed beyond them or nothing was worth a damn. King would be the first to admit that controlling one's own life was important, but a little variety was enjoyable from time to time, and that didn't always come with an over abundance of control.

_There isn't much point in breathing if you don't mix things up a little bit_, he thought.

He wasn't far from the next door, when he heard the cold entry of a voice, coming through his earpiece. His employer was checking his progress, although King also had a feeling that it had something to do with the armed men, the men who had entered the facility near two minutes ago. _Probably from some other Umbrella rival, looking to get their hands on a few new toys_, he thought. They would be sorely disappointed with the results of their mission. On the other hand, at least their tomb was already awaiting their lifeless bodies. King felt the muscles in his face pull tight, could feel the smile spread freakishly across his lips. He was going to kill them, he was going to slay every last one of them.

_One minute to find them, one minute to kill them, two minutes to leave, give or take a few seconds. Near bloody flawless._

"Having fun down there, are we, Phantom?"

"I thought you'd be in touch, Wesker," King responded. "Those men you mentioned have just arrived."

King in fact had been informed of the slight possibility of interference from another interested party. Obviously it was no longer slight. In all honesty he had hoped for it. There wasn't an assignment that he could name where he had failed Wesker. But even King got bored on occasion, and having to cut his way through some mercs on his way out would be a welcome experience.

"I'm aware of their progress," Wesker said. "They're working for a small failing group, one that once had dealings with Umbrella."

"So I guess the little fish are after the big prizes now that Umbrella's kicked," King shook his head with amusement, going through the next door and into another passage. Not far ahead there were a set of stairs laying in wait. "I saw the little soldiers as they entered: about a dozen ex-jarheads by the looks of them,"

"Just mercenaries out for easy money," Wesker said, his cold voice poring with a sort of dry smugness. "As always viral research attracts the simplicity of the greedy minded."

King chuckled. "Not to mention the idiot who's paying these apes."

"Everyone is competing for dominance these days, so that data you're carrying would fetch a high price. Make sure they don't leave there alive."

King's thoughts lingered for a moment on the coming violence; his killer instincts now wide awake. He knew how things would go, and how they always went. Their fear would be practically fragrant. If their employers had any shred of intelligence they would have informed the mercs that a confrontation with a competitor was possible. Even if they had, these men would be would be in the figurative dark as to the nature of that confrontation.

He had not a slither of sympathy for their impending failure. Traits such as sympathy and morality, those were just the worst species of weakness to have within a killer's world, and were fatal to those who held too close to such values. He wanted no part of any such frailty; his mission was always clear and always carried out. What was about to transpire was going to be enjoyed to the fullest. _No reason why a fella can't bask in the act of ending lives_, he thought.

"Consider them corpses," he responded as he began to ascend the stairs. "Anything else?"

"Actually, there is. A couple of little pests have recently overstepped themselves," King picked up on the alterative Wesker's tone. Was that annoyance he had just heard? "I know you've been bored lately," the man continued. "So I imagine a hit assignment seems adequate about now. Wouldn't you agree?"

King smiled at the prospect. He loved that aspect of his occupation, more than anyone he had ever crossed paths with, and to have a kill mission right after this more uninteresting one was a golden opportunity, a shining prize that he wouldn't miss for anything. Most people would judge him as evil, but how could anyone truly cast such an accusing eye on him when everyone was guilty of something? Most human beings were cruel and sadistic in their very own way, and King was simply more honest about _his_ way.

He took great interest in this new assignment. It seemed that a couple of unfortunate individuals had make the mistake of rubbing Albert Wesker the wrong way. Handy advice to anyone who ever made an enemy of such a man: fly to the moon and never come back. Wesker always had ways of finding someone, no matter how deep a hole they chose to crawl into.

"So," King said. "Where are these sorry little souls?"

When King reached the top of the stairs, he took a sharp right, leading him into a large rectangular chamber. Dim shades of light cast eerie shadows across the room, falling strips of illumination stretched across empty glass tanks. The tanks themselves ran through the room, four rows running the length of the chamber, each standing maybe seven feet tall. Whatever genetic madness had once occupied these dusty cylinders was long gone. King found the absence of a few monsters was indeed a good thing. It wasn't that the challenge wouldn't be a welcome one, but he didn't have a great deal of time to fight such beings right now.

As he stepped into the chamber he already made the door at the other end. But what he also saw was the group of armed men, slowly moving through the centre of the room, between two rows of stasis tanks. And all of them seemed to have no clue as to what was about to happen. _Idiots_, he thought. He felt a distain for them that he could almost taste. So far none of them had noticed him; the brain dead goon brigade were too busy viewing the tanks, no bout wondering what monstrosities were once birthed from them. Their attention spans were worse than juvenile. King had seen countless so-called tough-as-nails types in his lifetime, whose lack of awareness had ultimately led them to self-destruction. These men were no different; each and every one of them deserved what was coming. King made out six of them, guessing that the rest had hung back to guard their exist.

_Perhaps they're not completely stupid? Just mostly._

"The first target," Wesker spoke again. "It turns out he lives just on the outskirts of the city so– "

"Just a moment," King cut him off, producing a couple of small knives. He threw them both together.

Two of the unsuspecting group were down instantly, jets of red spraying from their neck wounds as they fell. The remaining men were startled, and didn't have time to react as King was upon them. Another blade was in his free hand in less than a heartbeat, cutting through the throat of another mercenary, sending a violent shower into the face of another, causing him to stagger away. He was too late to shield his eyes, and King darted behind the currently dying soldier as one of the others finally managed to focus enough to open fire. He pulled the trigger of his assault rifle, but King used the dead man's falling body as momentarily protect, knowing that the gunman was a couple of paces away. The human shield had done its job. King was then behind the man who was trying to rid his vision of blood. Such a lack of reaction would be the end of him. That was when the merc caught the bullets he'd never seen coming. The one with the rifle had been so entrapped by the shock of the sudden attack that he fired wildly; a shower of metal tore through his comrade, and after that his fate was sealed.

Only two left in the room. King forced his weight into the back of the bullet-riddled man before he could fall. The merc's dead weight crashing into his teammate as King inserted his knife deep into the eye socket of the other man, one who'd been welded where he stood, unable to move. Soldiers, they were not, King thought. The fool was no doubt locked within a swell of disbelief at the speed of his team's death, and how out of the blue it had come. It wasn't the first time King had instilled such fear in others, and in all truth that aspect was part of the enjoyment. They hadn't seen him coming, and this was why he was called Phantom; in a way these men had gotten off lightly. Some of his prey in the past hadn't been so lucky, and he wouldn't want them to be. How un-entertaining would that be?

The last man, who had now finally stopped shooting, was struggling to throw his victim aside. His may not have even registered that he had just killed one of his own. When he _did_ manage to push the corpse away he was face to face with King. A moment later a blade had been slid between his ribs, cutting through his heart. The merc's eye gaped horribly, and King stared into those dark brown orbs of terror for a moment, watching as the light behind them began to fade away into nothing.

And then he was dead. King pulled the knife free and turned toward the door he'd been heading for. A grin crossed his pale face was he heard the weight of the merc's body hit the ground, meeting it's permanent resting place with an unforgiving smack that would never be felt. King was several metres away from the door when he heard the sounds of voices, shaky and urgent as they called out. They were followed closely by running steps; hardened boot soles battered hard against metal flooring, booming through the passage beyond the door as the seconds ticked by.

"What is wrong with these people?" he hissed, rolling his eyes at the stupidity.

From what his slightly more than normal hearing was telling him, these idiots had no grasp of stealth, at least none that could aid them in sneaking up on those who possessed the ability to use their ears. _Who trained them? Probably no one, I'm guessing. _Leaving the dead to their sleep, he continued toward the door. It would only be seconds before the others arrived, but that didn't matter to him; it would save him time if he didn't have to chase them around.

Moving to the wall near the door, King waiting until it swung open. The first man came rushing in, apparently without even bothering to check his corners. He had made it a few feet into the room when King hurled the knife, burying it in the back of his neck. The second came through right after; King tackled him away from the door the moment he emerged, seeing another of the team coming from the same passage. He kept a strong arm wrapped around the neck of the first man, sending the gun of his partner tearing from his grasp with a kick before twisted his previous victim's neck, creating a vile crunch before throwing him aside like a rag doll. When this was done he turned his full attention to the now unarmed merc, who had suddenly charged, almost bull-like in his blind aggression. The man's advance was brought to a dead stop when King's elbow destroyed his windpipe. The unlucky soldier of fortune collapsed, slowly choking all the way to his doom as King stepped over him. He headed through the next door, continuing on his way.

That still wasn't all of them. It seemed that a couple of them were still at the elevator, no doubt guarding their escape. It wasn't far now. King doubted very much that these remaining men would run; they couldn't have been aware of the destruct sequence, as he had set a silent countdown before leaving the control room. They would have no warning. Of course they would be finished before detonation anyway.

"Phantom? I do hope you're not planning to ignore me all evening," Wesker's irritation was only slight, but still, it was unmistakable.

"Apologies, Wesker. Just caught up in my craft is all," King found that he couldn't suppress a short smile, at the image of Wesker sitting somewhere impatiently. "I'm coming up on the last of them now. They won't be blocking my way for long."

"I'm sure they wont."

"So, what about this next assignment? Are they in the least bit competent? Or are they like these fools, sharing a brain cell between them?"

"The first," Wesker said. "Is a US government agent, living just outside of New York. He's proven to be a minor thorn in my plans and needs to be released from his useless life."

King was amused at the choice of words. "Well that can be arranged."

Whatever money he would receive for this next job would in no way compare to the sheer thrill of actually doing it. He couldn't wait to meet these individuals face to face, hoping that they weren't as soft of the drones he had just killed. Although considering they had managed to mildly upset Wesker he had doubts that they would be the easiest prey. He was going to enjoy this, he was certain he would.

"I would advise that you do not underestimate your next targets, Phantom," Wesker coldly warned. "The American agent alone has survived hostilities of the most savage variety. His abilities are exceptional."

"So are mine," King responded, a wicked edge slicing through his slips. "Who's the other one?"

King rounded another corner, stepping swiftly down the final corridor. Even now he could hear the voices of the two men who had chosen to remain. The elevator was right ahead of him; the doors were visible to him even now, but the men were out of sight, somewhere off to the right of the room. King shook his head, hearing their exchanged words regarding gunshots; he was close enough to pick up on their concern. He could smell their fear, and his heart quickened.

"She was much harder to located," Wesker explained. "It took some effort, but it seems that she has finally stopped moving for a while."

"She?" King said. "It's been a while since I've come across a formidable lady. On the other hand they are in some ways far more dangerous."

He reached the end of the passage, knowing now that the remaining two were definitely off to the right of the room. They were so close that he could see their shadows falling across the floor. Still he could them speaking about the gunfire, and why their comrades hadn't radioed in yet. They probably wondered whether or not they should check things out themselves? Whoever had paid these primates couldn't have been too well off at this point, King thought; they were grunts, at best. Based on what he had seen so far they possessed only basic training. If their employers had even the slightest inkling that someone else might show up then why hadn't they sent someone who knew what they were doing? King couldn't imagine what they were thinking.

He ceased his question. Before either man could go on any further with their dull debate of "fight or flight?" he emerged from his concealment, another knife in hand. The closest of his opponents was down before he knew what had happened, crying out as a fiery agony ripped across the muscles in his face; the knife lodges in the softness of his bleeding stomach as he fell onto his back. King had considered finished him right away, though he decided it would be funnier to leave the poor man to writhe on the ground before being incinerated.

The second merc shook where he stood, trying his best to keep his handgun lined up with King's head. Whoever this man was – this merc, and King's opinion a massively chicken-shit one at that – he couldn't have been even near his mid twenties. This man, this boy, shook like a leaf, losing his bearing with any calm he may have had like the branch that shunned that leaf. As far as King could recall, he himself had never scared to such a powerful degree whilst in the centre of violence. He wasn't sure if he could feel terror anymore. What he saw in the young man's eyes at this moment mirrored nothing that King had ever experienced. But maybe it was just King? Perhaps he was the only one who didn't feel fear anymore? He didn't feel horror to anything, because he was horror.

"Get you fucking h-hands in the air!" the panic stricken moron yelled, with his gun juddering around in his hand like a tambourine. "Give me the case. Do it now!"

"This case?" King was highly entertained by the rookie's spineless body language. His fear was indeed fragrant, like a man who had literally soiled himself. "Your friends, they just died for this. I have to say they failed to impress. So don't _you _disappoint me as well, k?"

"I s-said," the merc paused, taking a short lungful of air. "Give me the case!"

King let out a sigh of annoyance, taking a step toward the quaking idiot. And then the merc opened fire. King cleared the path of the bullet, darting to the left with an almost unreal agility. Closing the distance, he launched a punch to the man's nose. The impact forced a wet crack into the air, followed by the horrid scream that raced out of the merc's mouth when King planted his foot into his right kneecap, snapping it in the opposite direction. He went to the ground, but with no time to cradle his broken leg, as King was on top of him within an instant, pinning the man's gun arm to the floor with his knee. King grinned, gasping with a freakish joy as he clamped his unoccupied hand around the merc's throat. He squeezed tightly, cutting off his victims air supply.

The merc brought his one good hand up, wrapping his fingers around King's wrist in an effort to free himself, an effort that King might have found commendable if it wasn't so futile. Within seconds the kicking and choking man must have realised that his struggle was pointless, and instead began to throw his fist upward, aiming for King's face in a desperate bid to go on with his life. King was actually surprised when the first strike connected, bouncing off of his cheek. His grip on the man's throat slackened only a fraction in that instant, caught mildly off guard by the sudden outburst of will. This boy had a decent amount of strength, he thought. He lifted his face from reach, his hand tightening more and more. The strikes from the young merc became weaker after that.

"That was better than the others," King almost mused. "It's amazing, isn't it? What people will do to survive?" he then flattened the last remnants of life from this final pawn. He rose from the now unmoving form. "Oh well."

He turned back to the other one, the man moaning in pain on the floor, with the bloodied knife still protruding from his gushing belly. King would have been perfectly happy with watching the man slowly slip away, but sadly he had to leave. Moving over to soldier, who had already donated rivers of scarlet to the ground he lay on, King took one final and satisfied glance at the case in his left hand. Then he regarded the remains of his deathly work.

"You don't look all that well, my friend," he taunted, ignoring the mild inch across his cheek from that punch. "I do believe this place is about to self destruct."

"Aaggh! Fuck… n-no, it hurts," the man's face was milk white as he looked back at King. "Please! D-don't… leave me like… this!"

"It won't matter," King replied. "Not in a couple of minutes, anyway. Basically you have the task of crawling out of here before this place blows to high heaven. Oh, but you'll have to call the elevator back down when I'm gone. It isn't turning out to be a good day for you, is it?"

King turned, leaving the writhing amateur to his fate. He was one hundred percent certain that the man had a snowballs chance in hell of leaving with the wound he had, having lost far too much blood. He would go down with the rest of place. Not one of them had any substance to speak of. King had always believed that there was no room for the weak, and reflecting on that further he realised that they weren't that bad to have around; the would always be predators, and they would always need prey. Daniel King would always need prey.

He opened the elevator doors, ignoring the dying man's continued pleas as he stepped inside. As the sliding door closed and his ascent began, he wondered what excitement his new assignment would bring his way. "I assume you're still there?"

"I am," Wesker said flatly. "Quite theatrical, aren't you?"

"Well after all this time it shouldn't come as much of shock."

"True enough. I wonder how Ada Wong will react to that vicious streak of yours."

King's body froze, as if being subjected to a raging blizzard of alarm, and alarm that burst quickly into hatred. The icy coldness enveloped him, as the name rang achingly through his head. He felt his brow creased, an anger he had almost forgotten forcing it's way up to the surface of his mind. It was monstrous, like a leviathan, rising from the deep with a destructive intent.

"Ada," he said. "Ada. What of her?"

"Miss Wong, and the government lapdog, are your targets, Phantom. I assume you of all people would be pleased to hear this."

King ground his teeth. "So she finally stabbed in the back, has she? I knew she would eventually; one can only be a double agent for so long before it catches up with them."

"Her organisation won't be a factor forever," King's own distain for the woman seemed to be equally matched by the malevolent current running through Wesker's words. "Although her most recent activities have set back my plans. So enough is enough. She has to go."

"So, I take it she botched the Spain op then? Those pesky feelings are a real pain for her, aren't they?"

King wasn't in possession of the full details regarding the Spain mission. However he knew that Wesker had been running some operation in Europe and that Ada Wong had been involved. Obviously it hadn't gone the way Wesker would have liked, which certainly wasn't good for Ada. Though King hardly cared what was good for her.

"I wouldn't exactly say that she failed. However her interests and mine have never been common. She has finally made her move, and now she's going to die for it."

King thought that a difference in their interests was a serious understatement. Ada Wong always had been and always would be on her own side; this simple fact was unquestionable to him, as certain as oxygen. Her mesquerade was finally over. King had waiting too long for this moment to arrive.

"Oh yes. I'll make sure she does."


	2. Chapter 2

_I hope you guys like this new chapter. And thanks to all the people who read the first one, hopefully I won't disappoint with new chapters. Again I don't own Resident Evil or any of it's characters._**  
**

* * *

**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter Two**

Leon S. Kennedy brought his jeep to a slow stop on the pebbled driveway, just behind a small red car. Glancing at his watch for the tenth time, still concerned that he was incredibly late for some reason. He hated being late. He thought he'd grown out of that phase completely.

Night was drawing closer. The dying glow of orange had already begun its descent, the horizon giving way to bright waves of red that deepened into purple. The streetlights hadn't come on yet but it would only be minutes before they did.

As the young agent scanned the house through his windscreen he couldn't help but feel just a little jealous. Somehow his old friend had managed to find one of the most peaceful places he'd seen in New York. He personally hated the inner city, places like Manhattan for all their constant noise and mayhem. Leon still found it unbelievable how sleepy things had been on his way over, almost like a hidden paradise. Definitely somewhere that Claire Redfield could live happily.

_Some people might call it dull. A place where nothing much happens, I call it playing it safe. Cities can be messed places._

That feeling came back again, that he was late. He could have sworn that Claire had invited him over earlier. His mind went back to those days at the academy when his pals had poked fun at him, 'You'd be late for your own funeral, 'Leon your time keeping sucks bro', the usual crap. Back then his time keeping left alot to be desired.

Leon thought about the academy for a moment. Going there had been without a doubt something he wouldn't change for the world, if nothing else it was an experience he'd always remember with a warm heart. No one could take that away from him. His pals in training were all great guys despite their teasing, although Leon made sure he gave as good as he got every time. That was one thing he took into almost every aspect of his life, which had never changed and probably never would.

Slowly pulling the key from the ignition his mind went over the last time he'd seen Claire and the gang. He smiled at that particular memory. Seconds later his fond reminiscing had been swallowed by an unforgiving sting. He realised that a whole year had passed, since that time that neither he nor Claire would ever forget.

_No one would forget that day. Too bad we had to wait that long for Umbrella's total collapse._

Within the next few seconds the guilty Mr Kennedy was out of his jeep and heading up the front path towards the door. He wasn't all that surprised to find that her front yard was quite plain. It was just a driveway larger enough for two vehicles and a path leading to the door. She was never much for gardening anyway.

Leon was looking forward to seeing her after so long. He'd spoken to Claire a few hours ago and apparently her brother Chris might show up at some point, Leon wondered what the older man had been up to lately apart from his obvious occupation. Last he'd heard Chris had developed a strong relationship with his partner Jill Valentine, someone who he'd been through hell and back with. From what Claire had told him they were happy together, Leon wished he could say the same for his own love life

_I wonder what she's up to right now? What the hell, why did I think that?_

That thought quickly died as he drew closer to the house, making out some light from the front window, a tiny yellow beam peeking through a small gap in the curtains. It was then that he heard voices coming from inside, guessing that Chris had already arrived. He didn't see any other vehicles however, and the car on the drive in front of his didn't seem like Chris' kind of ride. Leon could have been wrong, but it was probably Claire's; she had a thing for red.

_She's not the only one._

As soon as his finger touched the doorbell the chatter ceased. His trained senses picked up the very faint footsteps, the approaching sound becoming clearer by the second. When the door swung open Leon was taken off guard by the sudden motion of Claire slamming her hands on her hips. There was a mock expression of boiling anger crossing her pretty features, which hadn't changed a bit.

"What's this all about Mr Kennedy?"

"Err… what?"

"It's seven thirty. You said you'd be here by six thirty," She stated with a shake of her head, the muscles in her face clearly loosing the battle against her oncoming smile.

"Ah shit," Apparently his punctuality still needed some work. "Sorry Claire."

"Is your watch broken or something?"

He couldn't believe he missed an entire hour. What the hell was wrong with him? "No, I just need a new brain that's all."

"That's obvious." Claire's smile finally claimed victory. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around the young government agent. "It's been ages, its good to see you. Finally."

"It's good to see you too. How have you been?" Leon asked as he returned the hug.

"You know me. Nothing but work, with a side order of pain in the ass work," Leon noticed that some of her cheerfulness at that joke was a little forced. "That pretty much sums it up."

This didn't come as much of a surprise to Leon. Everyone went through the rough times with their occupations whether it be chosen or just a convenient employment; even Claire of all people had her down seasons. Did anyone really love their jobs? _Maybe_ he guessed, but there was always a point where you needed to stop and take a break before your head exploded. He knew that better than most _that _was for damb sure.

A good example would be Ingrid Hunnigan, his technical support during the Spain ordeal. Every time she showed up for work in the morning Leon felt more and more like a Siamese twin. Having her permanently assigned to him came as a total kick in the nuts right from the start because all she did was follow him around like a lost dog. Ever since Spain it was the same, day in and day out, Hunnigan would maintain an agonisingly short distance of two paces behind him wherever he went, constantly reminding him of details he was already painfully aware of.

There was part of him that knew he was being harsh about the whole situation. Leon couldn't lie, she was good at her job but he needed some space, if only for a short time, he _did_ have the loner gene after all. He wasn't all that big on partnering up. He guessed it was a good thing that he was on vacation now.

"You've got your hands full too huh?"

"Same as always Leon. Not as much as you though, I never see you anymore."

Leon felt genuine guilt for not keeping in better touch with his friends. He really had drifted away for some reason; he wasn't sure why that was. There was a part of him that thought it was his job, which would be a reasonable excuse for anyone. No, he knew that wasn't it.

"I've got no excuses I know," his casual tone managed to bury how crappy he felt; at least he hoped it did. "I promise you'll see me more from now on."

"Hey Claire?" Leon heard a young woman's voice call out from inside the house. "Are you going to bring him in or not?"

"Yeah just a sec." Claire yelled back.

"Who's that?"

"An old friend who can't wait to see you again" Claire replied as she brought Leon through the door, closing it behind them.

* * *

Ada let a small sigh break free as she glanced out of the kitchen window. The final remnants of light were beginning to vanish, submitting to the shrouding darkness that always came. Night was the only real certainty Ada thought, it came without complaint and without mercy, repeating it self forever.

_Where is the light? Will it ever come back?_

She couldn't help her smile when the streetlights came to life. In a way the brightness that now spilled down from those tall dark poles proved her thoughts to be… well, maybe bullshit wasn't the right word.

But then maybe it was. She'd been wrong before after all, it was just that such a profane word didn't sound right coming from her.

She began to grow restless, her body moving on it's own. The shadows that coated her surroundings quickly thickened as she paced the small kitchen area. She hadn't bothered to turn on the light, not seeing the point since she hadn't planned on being there for very long. It was without a doubt too long for her already.

It had been an hour since she arrived at Leon's apartment. Ada didn't want to leave without at least trying to let him know that he was in danger, but if she lingered for too long she would be at risk also. At this stage putting herself in harms way was something she wouldn't allow. Although despite knowing this she couldn't bring herself to leave.

As cold as Ada Wong could be she didn't want the agent to die, it was for the most part her fault that he was in this mess. She didn't want to leave things the way they were, as Leon had done nothing that warranted being killed. He was just a guy trying to do the right thing. He always had been.

_If only I could make that claim for myself._

After a few more minutes of pacing the kitchen she moved through the deafening silence into the living room. As her eyes moved across the darkening space she couldn't help but notice something.

It was plain as hell… too plain.

A dark carpet lay across the floor; the walls were a faded colour. There was a basic black sofa sat facing away from the kitchen with a small coffee table in front. Not a single thing was placed on top of it, nothing at all. She saw a basic TV, not even a flat screen, and a DVD player on the other side of the room. An extremely small handful of movies sat next to it within a small cabinet.

Ada guessed that his work prevented him from indulging in any real hobbies. Amusingly enough she wasn't much different. He no doubt travelled around a lot the same as her, their occupations having it no other way. It seemed however that _she_ made a point of entertaining herself every now and then where as he didn't.

The other thing she had picked up on instantly when she broke in was the fact that there were no photos in his home. No pictures of family or friends could be seen anywhere. Ada had looked all around his apartment, even his bedroom, which she felt a little guilty about and not one piece of evidence that he had once come from somewhere. It was almost as if he had no origins at all.

This made Ada feel sad, seeing the truth of Leon's life almost made her want to cry. He was like a bullet that had been fired from the chamber of a gun, moving forward always, never resting for a second. The bullet had no interest in anything other than the task it was built for. Was Leon really this consumed by his work she wondered? Did he really have nothing else?

"All work and no play is it? Always the selfless one" she whispered into the dark.

She had lived like that for a long time but it wasn't something she had chosen, not entirely. Ada had others to thank for her way of life beside herself, but Leon seemed to have decided on this life of his own accord. She didn't fully understand it. But then six years ago each and every one of them had been forced into a dangerous corner, and she thought that maybe Leon wasn't finished with making the ones behind it all pay for ruining his life, or rather the life he could have had. It was just a guess but Ada thought it might be on the mark.

She thought back to all those years ago, back to the naïve rookie cop she had first met in the underground of the R.P.D building. The corners of Ada's mouth lifted slightly as her mind wandered. At the time she couldn't understand it, how Leon could run so blindly into the madness, just for her sake. Part of her still didn't understand.

All she could think about at the time was ditching him. She'd had a mission and didn't need him slowing her down, but he wouldn't give up trying to protect her. He even took a bullet through the shoulder for her. Ada had appreciated that probably a lot more than she should have, and soon her feelings towards her mission began to change. She was feeling what most people in her line of work would call a major weakness, and maybe they'd be right.

A professional mind couldn't let distractions in and back then Ada's feelings had done exactly that. She had nearly died because of her clouded judgement, but in any case meeting Leon had changed her. Whether that was good or bad made no difference now, she was a different person.

Ada had not seen him for another six years after that. And then Spain happened. She thought that her feelings for him had lessoned but still she felt as if she owed him something, but that made her laugh in a way. They're ties had been severed; there was no emotional connection anymore.

_But there is, isn't there?_

What ever her feelings she had to face the music now. Things had been set into motion and both she and Leon were now facing serious trouble, all because of one man. Ada knew that this was coming, the moment she had taken the assignment in Spain she knew there was no turning back.

Albert Wesker had sent Ada because the Plagas sample was slipping through his fingers, she knew his trust in her was fading but she had no choice. The mission had been a success, however her true employers within 'The Organisation' had ordered her to send Wesker a fake sample and bring the real one to them. Wesker had at one time himself been a valued member within their group, but his constant lust for self-advancement was starting to take him in other directions that wouldn't benefit them in any way.

Though Ada didn't think he'd loose sleep over no longer having use of the 'The Organisation's resources. He had gathered enough money and power elsewhere. Although 'The Organisation' also knew that he had been in contact with a swiftly rising pharmaceutical company that was set to be the next Umbrella. He was probably already in the process of selling them secrets so he could use _them_ as well. The battle was far from over.

Wesker wasn't a man that someone could take lightly, let alone piss off royally and Ada had done a splendid job of achieving the latter of those two. She'd received word earlier in the day that Wesker had sent out a hitman to kill both her and Leon. Ada wasn't surprised; this was a long time coming. One way or another there would be a confrontation.

_This game won't be that easy Wesker. I still have some moves you haven't seen._

She would turn her full attention to Wesker once she'd accomplished a few things first. 'The organisation' had just given her a small mission, one that with any luck could be completed within the next couple of days. After that she would have far less work to do and a lot more spare time on her hands. That was her hope.

But Wesker was after Leon too so she had to tell the man before it was too late. Ada had no doubt that Wesker's people would be on their way to Leon's apartment soon. He still hadn't returned. She didn't want them finding her there as well; only minutes remained before she would leave, cursing him for not being there.

_Come on handsome, I haven't got all night._

Her irritation was cut off when she felt a vibration coming from inside her jacket pocket. She sighed a little too loudly at Leon's lack of presence as she drew the phone out. Ada didn't need to check to number to see who this person was, there were very few people with the number to that phone. The person calling was probably one of the few people she trusted, a potential friend in the chaos of her life.

She took the cell phone and placed it to her ear. Keeping to the left of the window as she looked out onto a small park behind the apartment building, now almost completely hidden in shadows.

"What is it James?"

"Nice to hear your voice too Ada." the reply came sarcastically; her irritation must have been a bit too vocal.

"Has anything come up since I've been gone? Any problems at all?"

"Nothing special. Has your… friend shown up yet?"

Ada could practically feel the smart-ass smile on James' face right now. "I'm afraid he's being annoyingly elusive. I'm thinking I may need to leave soon."

"If someone's coming for him shouldn't you at least try to warn the guy?"

Ada didn't know if waiting all night was such a good idea. Every second she wasted gave Wesker's hired killer whoever he or she was an opportunity to take her out; she wasn't going to let that happen. There was something else that she wanted to avoid as well, questions.

When she'd seen Leon in the Salazar's castle two weeks ago she could see those questions all over his face. He'd even asked 'Why Ada?', obviously referring to her working with Wesker. But he wasn't in possession of the full facts and the last thing she needed was an interrogation. She didn't need a lecture either.

"Leon's a big boy," Ada knew she was just trying to justify walking out the door that very second. "He's been through his fair share of hardship. He can take care of himself."

"Still… you said he saved your life. Doesn't he deserve to see what's coming?"

That was true. Leon had saved her life on more than one occasion; James did have a point there. But she'd returned the favour, also on more than one occasion.

Leon had been sent to Spain to find the US president's daughter, Ashley Graham who had been kidnapped by a cult known as the Los Illuminados. He pursued them to an island where he had saved not only Ashley from the cult's leader, but also Ada herself. The island had been rigged with explosives and was about to be blown sky high so Ada needed to leave fast. Although she returned Leon's kindness with the key to a jet-sky, he'd gotten away with his skin attached so the whole thing had ended just fine.

_Yes Ada you did help him escape, right after you held him at gunpoint._

"Mind your own business James," she said irritably, deciding she didn't want him wasting his time calling her unless he had something important to report. "I'll contact you later once the final mission's completed."

All she heard on the other end was a low chuckle before she hung up the phone, tossing it back into her pocket as her face tensed. Something about the conversation about Leon sent a warm charge through her body, which she didn't like. It wouldn't be the first time since Spain that she'd thought about the agent. Ada couldn't deny that. She had deviated from her mission to help him, but she also had to remember that Leon had put himself at great risk as well. Could she really just leave him blind to an attack, especially after all that had happened?

"Maybe I'll wait a little longer," she said to herself.

* * *

**Well that's chapter two finished. I hope you like this one, please review and let me know what you think. I will get chapter three up as quickly as I can, hopefully it won't be too long. Bye for now.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi again. Sorry for the long wait, been kinda busy and all that. I will try and make sure that it doesn't happen very often. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy this new chapter._

* * *

**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter Three**

"You suck at this Leon," teased Rebecca Chambers.

Her small nimble thumbs moved in an almost blurry fashion. Leon thought his reflexes, honed by years of training would be able to adapt to any situation that came his way. It took all of five minutes for him to realise just how wrong he was. If he were the cocky type he'd be feeling pretty miniscule about now.

"Are you kidding? I'm just humouring you, giving you a chance."

He wasn't sure if he had managed to hide the speck of embarrassement. Somehow he wasn't convinced.

"Haha yeah right, I guess you must be getting slow agent Kennedy," she barked out smugly.

"Still quick enough to show you a thing or two, Chambers." He replied with cocked eyebrow, trying to put up a fight even now.

Leon pressed on with everything he had, but in the end it was nothing but an act of futility. Before he knew what hit him it was 'Game Over' again. Having finally had his fill of defeat he placed the game controller back on the low coffee table in front of him. He'd never seen this coming, that was for certain. Who knew that Rebecca would be a videogame master. Considering her choice of employment it was kind of unexpected.

"I think Becca's got you beat Leon, again." Claire laughed, clearly entertained by the massacre.

"Ok, ok," he surrendered. "I give up, you win."

"Took you long enough to throw in the towel," she smiled at the sight of her character on screen; standing in victory over the man Leon had just lost. "It's the least you deserve for avoiding us this long."

The young agent had to admit he'd been surprised when he'd walked into the living room, seeing her sitting there. She didn't really look any different from when they last met. Still big eyed and baby-faced, with a child-like optimism that Leon envied. She'd given him a pretty hard time when he walked through the door. Though he could hardly blame her for her interrogation. He'd been so distant with all of them.

His work had kind of pulled him off the grid. Or he'd pulled himself off the grid, that was more like it. He couldn't measure the guilt for it.

"Again, I'm really sorry it's been so long."

"It's been a year. Don't think your getting away with it either." she threatened with a smirk, lightly punching him in the shoulder as she sat beside him on a large comfortable couch.

Leon found that he liked Claire's living room. Although the two couches almost dominated one entire half. One couch lay with it's back to the front window, facing into the room just to the right of him. A decent sized flat screen TV, which showed the game they had just played, fixed into the wall above a modern fireplace with a small electric style fire set into it. It produced an artificial glow of flames while switched on, kinda cool Leon thought. All he had was a radiator at his apartment.

At least it worked. He wasn't cheap, he was just practical... most of the time.

"I promise I'll show my face more often from now on."

"You'd better Leon," Claire playfully warned from where she sat on the couch by the window. "Otherwise me and Becca are gonna kick your ass."

Leon smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

Leon was glad the two of them were doing so well. It turned out that Rebecca had been pulled into the BSAA not long ago. The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance. It was an organisation that had been founded last year by the Global Pharmaceutical Consortium, at the request of the U.S. Government. A group built to tackle bioterrorism around the world. Apparently Rebecca was one of the gifted people who analysed viral threats. Dangerous work to be sure. Lethal even. Leon however was certain she could handle it.

The BSAA had been formed in response to Umbrella's many criminal activities. When the company died their viral weapons began appearing on the black market, and soon incidents were occurring in various, more unstable countries. Acts of terrorism had taken on a new form and it was up to the BSAA to do something about it. While currently being a UN backed organisation, they constantly worked closely with the US government in tracking, and putting down this new spread of evil.

Now there was the threat of Las Plagas. Leon found that his part in the fight was far from over, and part of him wouldn't have it any other way. He had to admit the sight of another monster wasn't something he was looking forward to. Though after what happened two weeks prior he guessed it was unavoidable.

"What happened?" Leon looked to his left when he heard Jill's voice, seeing her standing in the kitchen doorway. "Did Rebecca beat you again?"

Leon shrugged. "Not that great at videogames I guess."

Jill shook her head in amusement as she walked across the room. "Ahhh what kind of an excuse is that?"

Jill and Chris had arrived not long after Leon, and soon they were talking about their recent trip to England. They were two of the original BSAA members from when the organisation was formed. They had responded to an incident and had been working with the UK BSAA brance for almost a week, only getting back a day ago. They both still looked pretty tiered. Leon knew the feeling, and sympathised completely.

As it turned out they had a small place just outside of New York like him, which they used when visiting Claire. Leon guessed that Chris wanted to make sure he could spend time with his sister as much as possible. It was no secret that Chris was a very protective older brother. With what he and Claire had been through Leon could hardly blame the man for wanting to keep her safe.

Her part in all the madness with Umbrella had begun where Leon's had. Raccoon City. Chris had been in Europe trying to tackle Umbrella at the time, with no idea that she'd been looking for him. Not long after things had only gotten worse for Claire. Rockfort Island, and Antarctica. Since rushing off there Chris had been trying his very best to keep Claire out of harms way, especially after loosing her friend, Steven Burnside, to the T-Veronica virus.

She'd seen enough of virus' and death. In truth they all had. Leon doubted that it was easy for her, even now. When a person cared for someone, and had to watch them die... Leon wouldn't wish it on anyone. He knew that feeling, all too well.

He was glad that they hadn't been too offended by his long absence. He couldn't really tell them why he was away all the time, not every detail. They knew he worked for the government but any specifics couldn't be discussed. However Rebecca being a member of the BSAA, would no doubt read a report on the Spain mission at some point.

Leon kicked himself for thinking about Spain again; he told himself that he wasn't going to spare it a second thought after getting out of his car. It kept rising inside his head, creeping around and following him, as if he were being haunted by it. Unfortunately he thought he knew why. It was something else he didn't want to think about, for completely different reasons.

"Well," Leon said "I think that's the end of my gaming adventures."

"Chris wanted to talk to you anyway," Jill informed him as she sat beside Claire. "He's still in the kitchen."

Rebecca picked up the controller once more. "Well I guess it's your turn then Jill."

"Oh no, don't drag me into this."

Leon pushed himself from his seat. Listening as Rebecca made friendly challenges. He didn't have the slightest idea what Claire's brother wanted to talk about. He hoped it wasn't work related. The last thing he wanted was to talk shop right now. He thought that _he_ was, perhaps one of the only single men aloud around his sister without loosing a body part. Chris had made it clear some time ago that he respected Leon, both as a person and as a fellow soldier. Leon had backed his sister up during Raccoon City, and Chris had been eternally grateful for that.

When he entered the kitchen he saw the large form of Chris, leaning against the sink on the other side of the kitchen. A large window behind him revealed nothing. Claire's backyard concealed by the black. It had been dark for almost two hours now. Leon noticed the bottle of beer in Chris' hand.

Chris must have seen it. "Jill's turn to drive."

"Wish I had a permanent taxi service."

"Sshhh," Chris jokingly put a finger to his own mouth. "I made the same joke. Managed to avoid an ass woopin' but it was close."

"She's a tough lady." Leon said.

He was still wondering what Chris wanted to speak about. He had a feeling that it was something specific.

"Yeah she is," Chris agreed, taking a large gulp of his drink before stepping closer to Leon, his voice just above a whisper. "I got the chance to go through your Spain report a couple of days ago."

_Ah man! That's the last thing I want to talk about._

Leon wasn't in the mood to give Spain any more thought. Just the mention of it gave him a headache. He didn't see the point, it was over now; the president's daughter was safe. The Los Illuminados cult was completely destroyed along with its leader, Osmund Saddler. The cult's island base, off Spain's coast had also been blown sky high. It was a subject that as far as the young agent was concerned was dead and buried.

Dead and buried, for the most part he thought. He couldn't stop coming back to a small detail of the whole ordeal.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "I guessed it would be made available to the BSAA pretty quick."

Chris took another swig of beer. His eyes revealed a kind of grim anticipation of this new threat from Europe.

"Those Plagas parasites. You think there might be more?"

"It's possible, but we have no way of knowing right now. I wouldn't worry about that anyway. Chances are it was an isolated incident."

Leon hoped he was right. Another parasite threat was the last thing any of them needed.

"Yeah," Chris said. "I thought the same thing when the Arklay mansion went up in smoke."

That wasn't what Leon needed to hear. But as much as he didn't like it, the ex-S.T.A.R.S man had a point. The caverns under Salazar's castle may not have been the only resting place for the dormant Plagas. Neither man could know for certain, but there might have been others out there, waiting to be discovered.

Leon knew that if another Plagas related incident ever occurred then he would be one of the first people involved. Unfortunately he was the only one with any experience in combating them. But there was something else that bothered him. It was one of the main reasons why he didn't want to think about any of this stuff right now, something he hadn't even told his own government. He'd left two important details out of his report. It went without saying that if either one got out, he'd be in a situation that would make purgatory in hell seem like a holiday.

He shook that fear away as quickly as possible. It was highly doubtful anything would ever come to light, anything that had his name next to it anyway.

"Well if there is another incident we'll be there to put it down." he said.

"I didn't know you'd be involved," Chris seemed a little surprised. "Weren't you assigned to the president's family?"

"Well that was the idea. The problem is what happened in Spain kind of put everyone on alert. Las Plagas is as dangerous as any virus we've seen. They want me ready in case something else comes up."

"You don't seem too happy about it."

"I just wanted to take a break from all that," Leon was definitely grateful for the time off he had right now. "The less I see of monsters, the better I'll feel."

"You and me both bud," Chris agreed. "Sometimes I wish I could just chuck it in and forget the whole thing."

Leon pulled a half smile. "But we wouldn't be able to stand not sticking our noses in, would we?"

"You got that right."

It was the truth Leon thought, neither of them could help going into these situations, doing the best they could to help. After 1998 neither of them were the same. Leon would be lying if he said that he wasn't pissed off by his own losses also. All his years of preparing to become a cop. The training, the studying, all the time he'd devoted, and things he'd thrown aside for it. All of that had been violently shattered in a single night. His new life had died before it even had a chance to begin.

The danger, the death, and suffering. The very things that had worn him down, mentally and physically. Despite all of this he still knew that he was nowhere near finished. He'd carry on until every sickening blight these viruses posed was wiped off the face of the planet.

Both men looked towards the kitchen door when Jill walked in. She moved past Leon and placed a kiss on Chris' cheek, rolling her eyes at the bottle in his hand. Leon smiled when he saw Chris shrug innocently, knowing that she was steaming at the fact that _she_ couldn't drink any alcohol.

He had to admit that Jill was looking good these days, probably in better shape than most of his co-workers. Her hair was also longer now, tied in a pony that stuck out from the back of a light coloured baseball cap. Strangely enough Leon thought the look was good on the Raccoon City survivor.

"So," she said. "Are you guys finished with your man to man time? Comparing battle scars and all that?"

Chris pulled a tiny grin. "That depends. Are you and Rebecca finished with going over Claire's shoe collection?"

"Oh you're going to pay for that pal," she playfully raised her fist, making the big man flinch. "Just wait till we get home."

"I think you're in trouble now Chris" Leon said as he stepped back towards the kitchen door.

"We kind of need your help in there." Jill explained, pointing a thumb over her shoulder.

"I take it you want to pick a movie before Rebecca does," Chris understood the concern, looking to Leon who was a little confused. "Believe me, if we don't get in there now it won't be good."

* * *

By the time Leon got back to his apartment it was some time passed midnight. He would have stayed at Claire's longer, but the fact was he was a little more tiered than he'd thought. The others had protested, but finally gave in when he agreed to meet up with them in a couple of days time.

_Good friends._

It was something that he should have noticed sooner, and was fully intent on making it up to them.

He stopped his jeep just in front of the apartment complex. The place wasn't too fancy; he wasn't really into anything too over the top. Leon easily made enough money to live somewhere better, though he didn't see the need. He had everything he needed, never was a big spender. The only things he used which cost a fortune were mission related. In that sense spending more could save a man's life.

Leon closed his door and locked the vehicle. Eagerly moving towards the apartment entrance. It wasn't until he pushed open one of the double doors and moved into the hall that he got a strange feeling, almost brushing against his senses, like the remnants of a rank odour. It was something that he couldn't quite place; for some reason something felt wrong from the moment he entered, and those instincts had served him well in the past.

He decided to ignore it for the moment. Although part of his training remained. Locked in place with no chance of retreat, which forced him to take the stairs rather than the elevator. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in a tiny box if there was a problem. It didn't take him that long to reach his floor, entering his hall, walking down the dimly lit space towards his door. He kept his steps light the entire time. People were trying to sleep after all. Also that feeling. The silence in the hallway could have choked him at this point, the hairs on the back of his neck were slowly on the rise.

Something was wrong! This was way too quiet.

For a moment he felt like he was being watched. Scanning the area as he entered the hall; there was no one in that area but him. His suspicions died a little when he heard the muffled sound of a TV coming from behind a door to his right. Obviously somebody would still be awake he thought. He could have slapped himself, putting his the feeling down to nothing more than paranoia.

His focus must have dulled he thought. Probably all the worrying about things he couldn't begin to control. Like the elusive ways of a woman in red, constantly leaving him wanting more. To his saddening disappointment she'd never reveal a thing, not until it was too late to do anything. Leon frowned at the thought. It had been two weeks, and still he couldn't rip her away from his mind for more than a few minutes. He thought it was crazy. When he had first found out she was still alive he wasn't quite sure if he believed it. How could he? He'd seen her fall from the walkway, felt her blood soaked hand slip through his fingers, plunging into the dark like a fallen angel.

A wingless butterfly.

But then he saw her in the castle in Spain. All the feelings of love and betrayal had burst their banks at that moment, poring in before Leon could fortify himself. Although he wasn't quite sure _love _was a suitable word to describe any of it. Nevertheless she was there again, had worked her way in even if she didn't mean to.

_Just stop Leon! Thinking about her is a waste of time. Do you actually think she ever spares a thought for you?_

He finally reached his door. The TV sound already a distant memory. Silence had now made it's swift return, but he ignored the absence of sound, pulling his key out of his pocket. Because of his sudden state of alertness he'd picked up he didn't feel all that tiered anymore. He quickly unlocked his door and stepped into the darkness, leaving the front door open for a moment while he reached out for the light switch.

Brightness filled his apartment instantly. He quickly closed the door, taking off his jacket, throwing it onto the back of the couch as he stepped into the living area. His eyes went to his right where the kitchen waited for him. He thought about getting something to eat before going to sleep. That was when he froze. He heard a very slight sound, like a foot rubbing off the floor of his living room carpet, and it wasn't his.

There was someone else in the apartment.

It took half a second for Leon's senses to kick in after that, pinpointing the direction of the sound. The agent however didn't have time to turn to the person, who was now standing behind him. The feeling of cool metal touching the back of his neck kept him firmly in place. He guessed it was probably a gun. Suddenly he wanted very much to kick himself in his own head.

_Great work Leon!_

Right now he couldn't think of any reason why this had happened. But since he wasn't dead yet he thought he'd at least try and find out who was holding him at gunpoint.

"I hope you know how to use that thing. How about telling me what you want?"

There was no answer. Just a low breathing, which seemed to get slightly heavier when the agent spoke.

"Come on" he said. "You can talk can't you? I think I should warn you pointing a gun at me isn't the best idea you could have had."

"Sorry Leon. I thought we'd do this the usual way." The silky and all too familiar voice filled his ears.

* * *

_Well that's chapter three finished. I hope you enjoyed it, and I will try and get the next chapter out as soon as possible._


	4. Chapter 4

**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed  
**

**Chapter Four**

"Sorry Leon," Ada said. "I thought we'd do this the usual way."

The moment he'd entered the same space as her Ada's pulse quickened, like rapid drums hitting symbols. She wondered for a moment if her train of thought had been subdued; she had been waiting for a while after all. Her patience was formidable, but by no means infinite. And Leon had certainly taken his time in coming back. Luckily no one had shown up for him, yet.

"The usual way?" Leon said, he still hadn't moved. "I'm afraid I haven't got a knife this time around. I've got no samples worth stealing either."

Ada tried, but wasn't quite fast enough to shield her self from the comment, and the sting it left in her chest. A terrible indigestion times three. He was obviously going to react this way, after what happened it was inevitable, and completely justified. But Ada couldn't let this hinder her, sternly reminding herself once again of why she was there and more importantly what lay ahead for her.

"Oh," she said, playfully faking regret; keeping her shield up as she usually did. "That is _such_ a shame. And here I was, hoping to leave with _something_."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Never mind," she said. "I guess I'll forgive you."

"Ada!"

Leon slowly turned around to face her, his steely blue eyes locking onto hers, and she saw it, that same look as before: the questions, the judgement, for the way she chose to live. She wished – only fleetingly – that she could tell him more; explain that things weren't always what they appeared to be. But she couldn't. She had more than enough to do without making things even more complicated.

"What do you want, Ada?" his tone was strong, snapping her back into place.

The emotion in Leon's gaze when he said her name didn't affect her outward manner. Her concentration had suffered for a moment but it was fine now, but she could still feel that inner tear over how she'd treated him, after he'd killed Saddler; her gun pointed at his head, her icy manner as she spoke, ordering the Plagas sample out of his hands. She didn't like the fact that she'd done this, but it had to be done. She wasn't going to jeopardize everything for the sake of Leon's feelings, she couldn't. Too much was at stake.

Ada slowly put her gun back in her shoulder holster, concealed beneath her jacket, and regarded Leon with a stone mask of neutrality. For a moment she wondered if putting her gun away was a good idea, but then she pushed the concern away. She knew that Leon wasn't going to try and apprehend her, as his job would dictate he should. He was now currently staring her right in the face, as if he were trying to work out what she was thinking. It was like seeing someone attempting to conquer a challenging puzzle, but unable to unravel it's complexity. Part of her was glad that he couldn't see the real her. The _real_ Ada Wong. It would only bring him pain if that veil should fall, and she wouldn't let that happen.

"You have a problem Leon." Her playfulness was gone; she didn't need it right now. _Straight__to__the__point,__just__get__it__done__with._

"Everyone's got problems Ada," Leon replied. "You'll have to be a little more specific."

_He's__playing__with__me_. Ada guessed she deserved this, but was _not_ in the mood for it.

"Leon,' Ada said. 'This isn't a game; Wesker is sending someone to kill you."

"What?"

He was obviously surprised by this news. She knew what he was thinking: 'Why would Wesker want me dead?' She hoped that he took this seriously and believed her, even if he had no reason to do so. Then she saw his expression tense, his brow creasing, and she knew he was convinced. It was relatively easy to read Leon's facial reactions to certain things. He believed her.

"You have to listen to me," she said firmly. "I don't know who he's sending, but they are probably on their way right now."

"But why?" he asked. "I didn't interfere with what you were doing in Europe. Why would he want to kill me?"

"Krauser," Ada lied. That wasn't the reason, but Leon might consider it a good one. "I reported him dead to Wesker after your final encounter."

"Krauser?" Leon repeated, and Ada noticed him raise a hand, touching the faint line of a scar on his cheek, and she was surprised that she hadn't noticed it before. "I guessed he was working for Wesker. He was there for the parasite too?"

"Yes," Ada answered simply.

It was in fact Ada who had finished Krauser on the island two weeks ago. After believing him dead, the hulking soldier had reappeared. In the entire time they'd known each other Krauser had never trusted Ada, and disliked her just as much as she did him. He had attacked her on sight, and Ada was forced to put an end to him only too happily. Leon didn't know about this and she was glad he believed that this was Wesker's only reason for sending someone after him. Ada knew that the death of one of Wesker's top people could incur a reprisal of the worst kind. But there was more to it than that. Wesker's reasons for wanting Leon out of the way went deeper than just the loss of one man. But Ada didn't want to go over the other reasons. She couldn't entertain that subject even if she wanted to, mainly for the fear that it could and probably would unravel everything she'd worked for.

She went on. "Krauser was supposed to obtain the Plagas sample for Wesker. But Saddler had become suspicious of his intentions so– "

"So Wesker called you in," there was bitterness in his words.

"That's right."

"So Krauser's six feet under, and now Wesker wants me pushing up daisies too. Great." Leon said, pacing in small steps in front of her, and she saw the sudden change in him, the narrowing of his eyes as he looked back at her. "But what's the issue? Wesker got what he wanted; you took the sample and I got off the island with Ashley… so I'm thinking that something else is going on. What is it?"

_I should have known that he'd figure out there was more to it. Too smart for your own good, and mine it seems._

Ada had nothing else to tell him, or rather nothing else she _should_tell him. Her time was practically non-existent; she was on a clock that would lead her straight to failure if she didn't abide by it. However she found herself standing there despite her desire to go; she'd already given Leon the heads up so why was she still there, unable to will her body to move? It was those eyes again, Leon's eyes that she thought could pull her in close and entrap her; a prisoner, adrift forever within those oceans of blue. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't attracted to the man, but her feelings for him had already dominated her once. There couldn't be a second time. Not now… probably never.

"Leon, the situation _is__ that _simple," she pressed on. "Krauser was a valued asset to Wesker, and that's why he's not going to stop. You need to get out of here."

She hoped that her voice (suddenly riddled with a deadly urgency) stopped his suspicions in their tracks; she didn't want him keeping her there any longer.

"But Ada," he began. "Why are you– "

"Leon, I have to leave."

"You've got to be kidding me," he said, as she began to back away towards the door. "That's it? You came all this way just to tell me that?"

"What else is there to say Leon?" Ada could see a tinge of hurt ripple across his attractive features. _Finish __this __and __leave. __What's __wrong __with __you?_ "I came to tell you what's going on and I've done that."

She could no longer deny that she had feelings for Leon. That would be impossible. But revealing those feelings would change nothing. He'd still be a government man, and she'd still be an agent of The Organisation. What difference would it make if she were to reveal her attraction toward him? None whatsoever. She knew that the same went for him, as it was more than clear that he felt something as well, he always had.

"So you're just going to run back to Wesker, even after you've warned me about the price on my head?" As he went on Ada could hear anger creeping into his voice. "Doesn't it burn in the least, helping that murdering son of a bitch? Is there any line you won't cross?"

"Excuse me?" Ada didn't show the pang of annoyance inside her, but she felt it like a lead weight. "The fact that you: a government agent whose made no attempt – no attempt what so ever – to arrest a known spy; well that only shows how you can so easily jump to the other side of the tracks as well. You never once tried to take me in during your mission, and the last time I checked that should have been part of your job."

"That's my business," Leon responded. "I've made mistakes Ada, believe me, I know that better than anyone. But contributing to genocide was never one of them."

* * *

Leon said the words out of anger, an anger that had been sitting within him for two weeks now, and all it left him with was guilt, cutting through him with a surgical indifference. It was ridiculous in a way; he had nothing to feel guilty for. But as he thought this he saw something he had never expected to witness in all his life: Ada's eyes had widened, as if shocked by the words. Two pale orbs, glistening in a thin coat of dampness. For a brief instant anger and hurt flowed chaotically over her face, and Leon thought that she was going to plunge her fist into his jaw. She looked like she wanted to do it, but she didn't. The anger vanished, but that chiselling look of hurt remained, and she recoiled towards the door all too quickly.

Leon suddenly felt terrible; part of him had really wanted to say those words; the part that didn't want to think of her (didn't want her) and for a brief moment that part of him had triumphed… for a moment.

"Ada… " He almost lost the words. "Look, I didn't mean that, I'm– "

She didn't speak at first; turning around and grasping the door handle with slender fingers and twisting. Leon watched as she turned her head halfway towards him, looking at him from the corner of her eye. That unexpected pain he'd seen was still there; and it looked deep. "Leon, d… don't get yourself killed… goodbye."

Every fibre of Leon's being was wracked with self loathing as she vanished through the door. He froze; burning regret mixed with fear sweeping over him like a winged demon, taunting him, sarcastically informing him on how wonderful he was with women; slaughtering a reunion that he'd wanted so badly, even if he hadn't wanted to fully admit it. He ran for the door, hoping she hadn't left the hall yet. He swung it open, taking two hurried steps into the hall, and then he stopped. Ada was gone. She'd disappeared, in her classic ghostly style. It wasn't the first time she had done such a thing, and he knew he wouldn't find her now. It would be as difficult as catching vapour with nothing but bare hands.

_Go after her! Leon, go the hell after her!_

He could have sunk to his knees - his body felt week enough - but he managed to drag himself back into his apartment, stepping in a rather lost manner into the middle of the room. Before he'd even known what he done his foot had already collided hard with the glass coffee table, destroying it with a single kick. Numerous shards exploded upwards, scattering across the carpeted floor, tiny crystals, star-like in their random formations, sparkling up at him as if he were staring down at the universe from a godly throne.

Leon didn't feel very godlike right now; frustration had taken hold of him as he paced over broken glass, ignoring every crunch his boots made on the now deadly ground._ How __could __you__ have __been__ so __stupid __Leon? __She __was __right __there __in __front __of __you, __right__there! __And__ you __turned __her __away._

"She was going to leave anyway!" he said to himself out loud.

_Maybe, but it didn't have to end like that. You saw the look on her face; she must think you hate her._

In truth there had always been a part of Leon that wanted to hate her. It would make things easier if he did; she was a spy after all, and working for Wesker no less, one of the worst kinds of people that he could think of. Leon had no reason to like her, but he did. Part of him wanted her so much that it physically hurt. Every time he'd been near her she had that effect on him, sometimes just the site of her alone was unnervingly entrancing. After she'd left in the chopper two weeks back he wasn't sure if he'd ever see her again. She appeared in his apartment, as if by a miracle and all he'd managed to do was screw things up completely. But was there really anything to damage in the first place? They weren't involved with each other in anyway. Why did he feel so guilty?

_Because you love her, you dumb son of a bitch!_

He staggered to his couch, collapsing tiredly onto its inviting softness as his body went loose. Leon closed his eyes, his jumbled racing thoughts were reigning supreme. _Did_ he love her? He thought he'd loved her back in Raccoon City, a long time ago. He'd admit that even now there was this almost mystic pull she had over him. Whenever she was around he wanted to reach out and take hold of her - fall into her - let her know that _someone_ cared. He wanted nothing more than to drag her away from the life she'd chosen. The life that caused nothing but death.

What he'd said to her, harsh as it may have been had also been true; Ada was (however indirectly) taking part in mass murder. Taking the Plagas sample to Albert Wesker would no doubt lead to the deaths of countless people, just like the T-Virus, and everything else that Umbrella manufactured, in the sickeningly long years the company had been left to its own will. Was she really concerned for Leon's well being? She'd saved his life more than once, but that could easily have been nothing more than Ada simply serving herself.

_If she's really like that, if she's really no better than Wesker, or Saddler or any of them, then how do you explain that look in her eyes when you said those words?_

Leon saw that look. The feelings clashing with each other, flowing from her like a fountain of melancholy. Sadness, pain, guilt, anger. She'd felt them all in those few seconds before she left him, and he knew it._ I should have gone after her. Why did I give up so easily?_

So if she really did care for him and wanted to keep him out of harms way then why was she working for Wesker? Why was she willingly obtaining things that caused nothing but destruction? Was it the money? Or could it be there was more to her than selfishness, more than the cold, calculating, and sometimes playful spy that he knew her to be. He knew there was more, there had to be more. And he didn't think money could control her. What was driving her he wondered, and why did she protect him? There were so many questions in his head with not enough space for all of them to dance. Leon's eyes wanted to close, but this late night meeting had sent his heart racing at a pace that hadn't subsided yet. However within the following minutes his eyes did in fact shut, and her image played inside his mind; Ada standing before him in that red dress, like the one in Spain, flowing around her slender body like warm crimson waves. He saw the same look in her eyes, as before she'd walked out, she held no other expression now, nothing but that pain. It was as if the woman from his last mission was no longer there, replaced by a troubled mind, of a woman who had secrets that she couldn't and wouldn't divulge to anyone. Leon continued to try and go over everything that happened and his pounding heart beginning to slow. It was two hours before sleep defeated him. Ada's saddened eyes were the last image to play through his tired mind.

* * *

It didn't seem like he'd been asleep for that long; his eyelids ascended rapidly, his internal alarm releasing him from his troubled slumber, just as it had so many times before. The cobwebs still dangling from his senses as he slowly sat up, wondering how he could have possibly slept after what he'd been told. The memory of his and Ada's heated talk for the first time was pushed aside in favour of the subject she'd brought to him with her unexpected visit.

**"_Wesker__ is__ sending__ someone__ to__ kill__ you."_**

Ada's words returned, breaking through the barrier of fog. Leon began to move as his mind became his own once again, rising from the couch and turning towards his front door. He imagined armed men crashing through at that very moment, breaking the silence and going for the kill. He thought he must have been crazy not to think about what she'd told him. Instead just falling asleep, distraught like a lovesick teenager at the memory of Ada marching out.

_Okay Leon, you need to move. Do it now!_

He was up in an instant; his instincts working on their own as he moved speedily to the kitchen. All thought about Ada would have to wait until he was out of the apartment. He needed to be somewhere else and fast. He entered the kitchen, then coming to a sudden stop, crouching near a low cupboard under the sink. He almost ripped the door off in his haste to find one of the few guns in his home. He didn't keep too many firearms around while he was off duty, never really seeing the need. It wasn't like his work had ever followed him home before. And strangely enough he wasn't all that keen on the idea of carrying a gun while off duty.

He pulled out a small metal box, a keypad was set into the lid. Leon quickly punched in the code and opened it, retrieving a Beretta92FS handgun. It was already fully loaded; he'd cleaned and reloaded the weapon only a day ago. Three extra clips lay by its side. As he stashed the ammo in his pocket his ears picked up something: a sound coming from his front door. He stopped and listened, thinking that he could hear a faint scraping, followed by the clinking of tiny pieces of metal. Someone was picking the log. The assassin. They no doubt thought that Leon would be asleep. Obviously they weren't able to see any light from under the door as Leon's main light bathed the room with its bright white/yellow. Luckily he'd been warned; if he ever saw Ada again he'd thank her. He couldn't think about her now however, the carnage in his brain earlier had numbed his thinking enough already.

He slowly moved toward the door as the obstacle of the lock was being removed. Keeping his steps silent, wanting to be right by the door when this unknown someone got through. He'd put them down as soon as they were in view, in a non-fatal way if possible. He wanted answers, and a corpse would give him nothing. The door slowly began to open. _You're __in __for __a__ surprise__ pal! _Leon had already moved to the right, staying away from the gap between the door and the frame as it grew wider. And just like that, a hand slowly emerged to push the door open further; there was no gun in sight yet, but the masked face appeared within seconds. Whoever this person was, they hadn't seen him yet. And Leon went for it; planting his foot into the door hard, causing loud painful snap that filled Leon's ears as the masked hitman was crushed into the doorway, grunting loudly as Leon sent the door flying into him again, resulting in the killer firing their weapon (now revealed to be a handgun with a silencer) a single time, sending the stray bullet through the ceiling. Leon thought he'd heard someone cry out from somewhere in the building._ Shit! I hope no one upstairs court that bullet_, he thought. The assassin's grip of their gun had hopefully loosened; Leon darted forward, wrenching the weapon from their hand, and throwing them into the room, the gun hitting the floor a few feet away. But whoever this man was, (and it was definitely a man) they had recovered almost instantly, and close enough to try and twist Leon's gun arm into submission. Leon moved his face away as the man released one hand, throwing punches to gain some leverage. Leon's head rocked for a moment as a couple of hits court him in the side of the face, shaking them off as best he could, he brought his knee up into the man's gut, rewarded with a gasp for air. He didn't stop there, using his free hand and sending his closed fist hard against the soft inside of the man's elbow, which was a very soft spot to strike. The killer let go, but it wasn't over, as Leon found out when he aimed for one of the assassin's legs. A sharp burning pain ran across his arm as a small blade cut across skin; not a serious wound, but a shock to the senses.

Leon's gun tumbled to the floor, the short blade tore through the air again; the man's will to win seemed as strong as anyone Leon had encountered. But he couldn't play around; he'd die if he did. He had to put this man down right now. He dodged the first strike, then closing in as fast as he could, his right hand snared the outstretched knife arm by the wrist; at the same time the edge of his other hand collided heavily with his attacker's throat, which was rewarded by a horrible choking as the man's air was cut off. Leon retrieved the knife as his opponent - who had collapsed to the ground - now fought furiously to breath; his eyes wide, rage written all over his facelss stare. It wasn't long however before the man gained control of his lungs once again (Leon hadn't been trying to kill him obviously) and began pulling himself to his feet. Leon's gun was up again, only this time he kept his distance, moving away with his back towards the still open front door. He guessed that someone might have heard the fight. He just hoped that the silenced shot hadn't killed anybody in the next floor.

The masked man rose to his feet, coughing, still finding the task of taking in air a little difficult. Leon hadn't hit him hard enough to kill him; he needed to know a few things. Who is this man? Is he alone? And where the fuck is his employer?

"You've messed up," Leon said sternly, seeing that the silent hitman had regained some of his fire. "I wouldn't go there if I were you; one wrong move, just one, and it's over."

The man didn't speak, he simply stood there with clenched fists; his breathing now clearly returned to him. Leon hoped that it meant he could at least talk; he was getting answers one way or another.

"Look," he said. "Your gonna play ball whether you like it or not. Were you the only one sent here?"

No reply came; hateful glares only. "Are you deaf? I want answers and I want them n- "

Leon didn't have time to finish: the blur of a small shiny object passed over his left shoulder, which coincided with the watery-eyed terror that took hold of the hitman. And then the splash of blood came, flicking out in small, repeated spurts. A knife buried to its handle, protruding from the man's destroyed throat. The man finally gargled some strange attempt at speech, but failed miserably and crashed to the floor. It had all happened so fast that Leon hadn't registered the killing projectile right away. Within a second however his head whipped around to the door, only in time to view absolutely nothing. A low menacing chuckle came from somewhere in the hall. Leon knew the man on the ground was dead without even having to look at him. The knife had ended everything. Leon now had someone else to worry about._ But what the hell were they doing? Why wasn't that knife used on me?_

He quickly reached down and grabbed Mr Balaclava's gun, stuffing it into the back of his pants. He also collected the knife the guy had used, just in case. He stepped cautiously towards the door, the view into the dim lit hall revealed nothing yet. Whoever it was who killed that man could be waiting for him. Leon poked his head into the hall slowly, his eyes scanning a long area. There was nothing. The hallway was empty. Still and haunting; a little unnerving considering what had just taken place. Then he saw it; a single (wide open) door on the left, right at the far end of the hall, with it's bright light spilling out onto the floor. Leon's first thought was that someone had heard the scuffle; thinking they may be in trouble. But there was the voice; the voice that cried out inside his head, telling him not to be fooled. This was wrong somehow. Someone might be lying in wait. Maybe the one who killed Mr Balaclava?

Trap or not, Leon had to find out. The other hitman (who killed his partner, no doubt to keep him from letting any info slip) had to be stopped. Maybe this time Leon would get some answers. He readied the berretta in one hand, holding the knife firmly in the other. He then moved out into the hall and towards the other end, his gun up and steady as he quietly jogged towards the open door, knowing he'd need to be ready to run towards the stairwell on the left, if this unknown killer decided to point a gun out from his cover spot. Thankfully it never happened. Leon made it to the door without any interference, taking a single cool breath just before aiming his gun into the room; scanning the area ahead before moving in, checking for any potential threat. Structurally it was pretty similar to Leon's apartment, a kitchen on the right of the room, a small wooden table in the room's centre. There was a door that no doubt led off to a bedroom and bathroom on the left, also on the left sat a couch. The couch! That was what court Leon's attention, or rather the body lying upon it.

A thin framed corpse of a man; the couch's beige covering was damp with dark red, absorbing the blood like a sponge. Leon approached slowly, not recognising the face that lay frozen; a mask of agony, bug eyes protruding from their sockets, staring lifelessly up at the ceiling. He got the impression that someone had definitely taken great pleasure in this life ending act; the man's throat was sliced open from one ear to the other. A clean wound, but a terrible way to go._ Jesus! What kind of freak did this?_ It was then that Leon caught the figure standing in the kitchen doorway, as if appearing out of nowhere. His reflexes enabling him to turn his gun on this person in less than a single eye blink. The man in black leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded; his twisted grey eyes sized Leon up with rabid hostility that oozed from him like a putrid wound.

And then the man spoke. "So you're Leon Scott Kennedy. How nice to finally meet you."


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi everyone. Chapter 5 is finally done, really sorry for the delay. Been working on other things recently so the updates have been delayed. Hopefully this wont happen too much, at least I hope not as I really enjoy working on this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this new chapter._

* * *

**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter Five**

Leon's body tensed, his gut tight like knotted rope. Eyeing the new-comer who stood in the doorway. Wickedness glimmered in the grey-silvery light of the man's eyes. He wore a black suit with an open jacket, a white shirt lying un-tucked beneath it. Not the tidiest of killers, his manner and appearance far too laid back for the agent's liking. Even in the middle of a scene that would bring forth a rigorous vomit episode from most people. And although Leon could stomach the site of death, it didn't mean he _wanted_ to see it.

_This guy must have killed the man on the couch._

"So you're Leon Scott Kennedy," his voice was low, and smothered with cruelty. "How nice to finally meet you."

Leon picked up on something else in the man's voice. "You sound surprised,"

"Truth be told, I pictured someone with your reputation to be a little more intimidating."

His accent sounded British, but there were definite trances in his voice that indicated he'd been living in the States for some time. Leon's handgun never wavered. Raised and pointed, between the bastard's eyes. One shot, that was all it would take. It would be the least he deserved. _First things first Leon, information._ The pale face man, who was maybe of similar physical stature to himself, didn't seem to be carrying any weapons, but since his arms where folded it meant that his hands were partially hidden. Leon guessed he may be concealing _something_. But Leon had the advantage right now, and he wanted answers. This night had been full of surprises. A great start, and a really shitty end would be the only way to put it.

"Who the hell are you?"

The man smiled a toothy 'I eat people because I'm shit-crazy' smile. At least that's what Leon got from the expression. Those eyes again: like beacons of erratic bloodlust, glaring above the grin, as if only held in check by the calmness of his tone. To say the whole thing was unnerving would have been putting it a tad on the mild side.

"Oh dear," he said. "I'm sorry, my manners are a little rusty. You can call me Phantom."

"Phantom huh?" Leon said. _Jeeze. Do they always have to be this damb theatrical?_ "You were with that other guy, sent here to kill me."

"Indeed."

"Why did you take out your own partner?" Leon asked.

"Boredom," Phantom shrugged, and then a morbid smirk swept across his face. "I sent him ahead of me to give you a little wake up call, a test if you will- "

"I guess I passed then?" Leon said bitterly.

"-And he may have let slip some information- however minor it would have been. It was still reason enough for him to go."

"Did you do _this_?" the agent flicked his head towards the body on the couch. Never taking his eyes from the hitman.

"Oh him," Phantom said, unfolding his arms. He wasn't carrying any weapons, in his hands at least. "He was asleep when I let myself in. Do you have _any_ idea how hard it is to use a knife in _just_ the right way so that the victim wakes up just before dying? One minute you're oblivious, the next you're awake, and then... well you know the rest. Kind of unpleasant I suppose, but, shit- as they say, does indeed _happen_, doesn't it?"

Leon grimaced, not believing his ears. This demon in human skin was a whole new level of sadistic. The manic look in his eyes contradicted the professional flow to his voice furiously. They simply didn't fit. A hitman? Leon thought he looked more like a serial killer. He could take one look into the inferno that continued it's satanic ballet with Phantom's stare, and only one word would come to mind. Only one thing that clearly described the person facing him. Monster.

"So your just another whack-job, like Wesker? Killing whoever you like for money?"

"I don't kill for money Mr Kennedy," Phantom said. "The paycheck is the icing on the cake, but it's trivial in comparison. Besides, I felt a little display was needed for this encounter. First impressions, and all that jazz."

"That's it," Leon was finished talking to this lunatic. "Get your hands in the air freak. Right now!"

"Uh oh," Phantom sighed, slowly raising his hands up above his head. "You _are _a righteous one aren't you? Most would disagree but _I_ think you two were made for each other."

"What are you talking about?"

Phantom's smile faded. "Ada,"

Ada? How did this Phantom man know her Leon wondered. Apart from being a total nutcase Leon didn't know anything about this man, but the way he'd said Ada's name pissed Leon off in a way that took rational thought by the neck, and beat it to death without mercy. Suddenly his trigger finger was beginning to itch like crazy. _Keep cool Kennedy. This guy may be an evil son of a bitch but that doesn't give you the rite to gun him down. Just take him in._

"Ada!" Leon said. "What's she got to do with you?"

"Don't you know?" Phantom taunted. "Her expiration date is drawing near. Wesker wants her dead as well."

"What do you mean?"

Things had just become even more complicated, and a little confusing to say the least. Ada had told him that someone was coming for _him_, however she mentioned nothing about her own life being in danger. Was that the reason she was in such a hurry? No, it couldn't be he thought. Ada had made a point of keeping her distance before, so why should this occasion be any different. Although just the thought of Ada being caught by this psychopath must have shown on Leon's face.

"Wesker was right, you care for her," Phantom let out a low laugh. "Someone _actually_ has a soft spot for Ada Wong. If only I could see the look on your face when that bitch screams her last scream."

Leon reacted, pulling the trigger without a single thought. Anger ensnaring him without so much as a fight. To his surprise however, just as the bullet left it's home, this new enemy was in motion. He darted forward, kicking the small centre table up into the air, its square varnished surface colliding against the agent hard enough to smash the table, sending the gun out of his hand in the process. He stumbled back in a minor daze, the sudden collision taking him off balance. The whole thing seemed to have happened in the fraction of a second. He brought his knife up as he went to retrieve the handgun from the first assassin. Still stuffed in his trousers. But as he pulled it out the man who called himself Phantom was right in front of him.

Bringing the barrel to line up with the man's head, he realised that ending him there and then was the only way. But Phantom swiftly grabbed the secret agent's wrist, forcing the gun away from himself just as the shot cracked out. A single bullet shattered the window to his left, sending a deadly cloud of glass into the night air, falling into the street below. Leon drove his knife at his opponents throat, but hitting thin air as Phantom ducked, ramming his fist into Leon's stomach. He grunted painfully from the blow, glad that he hadn't eaten too much earlier on, because that wouldn't have stayed down long. He felt his wrist being twisted even harder, resulting in him dropping the gun before a burning sensation of sliced skin went through him. A small cut bleeding from his chest, through a thin slash in the fabric of his t-shirt. The wound came from a short blade his assassin had produced. Seemingly out of nowhere. He shook off the small wound easily, as he had so many other injuries, backing away from another strike that barely spared his neck a gruesome end. He glared at the killer with an equal amount of hate and surprise. _Boy he's fast, _he thought_._ That strike had been even quicker than he had imagined. Not _beyond_ the realm of possibility, maybe. His skills were already all too clear. Leon had himself been very well trained and had a decent level of experience, but he got the impression that Phantom had been doing this sort of thing for longer.

Leon took a defensive position, ignoring a panicked cry from somewhere close by. He guessed that people were now alerted to a problem in the building and were hopefully making calls to the cops. But he couldn't worry about that now. This confrontation needed his full focus if he expected to live through it. Phantom wouldn't give him any room for error. He quickly avoided the first barage of attacks. Switching his knife to his right hand, knocking Phantom's thrust away from his face. The electric clang of metal on metal howling in his ears as he sent his left fist at the man's head. Phantom's free hand came up fast, blocking the punch before sending that same hand (now clenched into a fist) hard into his jaw. Before Leon could even react to the harsh blow, King: in a blur of speed slammed a sidekick into his gut, then bringing the same foot downwards at the lower half of the agent's legs, taking the blonde man's feet from under him. Leon felt the air leave his body as he hit the ground with a thundering smack, hard enough to rattle the floorboards beneath. Even as he let out his first choked gasp he saw that Phantom was already getting set to the final blow. Leon's body felt every impact that the man standing over him had delivered. His fighting skills were no joke at all. As he stared up at the assassin he could clearly see the look of disappointment on Phantom's face. Probably thinking it was already over. Leon felt a coppery taste enter his mouth as his face hardened determinedly.

_Like hell it's over!_

He threw his hand towards the hitman, sending his knife flying, not even watching as Phantom moved his head to evade it. Leon then grabbed a piece of broken jagged wood from the kicked over table, sitting up fast and burying it in the man's thigh. Phantom had stopped for a moment, looking down at the wood, lodged in his leg. His eyes gaping. Leon got the feeling that his reaction had nothing to do with pain. Astonishment more like. Phantom's eyes asking the question as he saw the wound. 'How the hell did that happen?'

Leon was moving again, grabbing the man's other leg, and using as much force as he could to pull him down. Phantom came off balance, falling forward, but turned just in time to land on his back. Leon was on top of him in an instant, trying to tear Phantom's knife from his still firm grasp. Grabbing the hitman's hand with his left: Leon slammed it into the floor repeatedly, whilst throwing punches down in direction of his face with his right fist. Phantom either moved his head to avoid the blows or he just blocked them with a single hand. Leon had never seen a hand move so fast. _He's either incredibly well trained or he's had something else done to him. Or both._ He also couldn't believe how relaxed the man was during the assault.

Phantom's head banged against the floor when one of Leon's furious blows connected. Colliding with the older man's face so hard Leon thought for a moment that his wrist had broke. But he continued despite the sensation ripping through his arm. Though as his next punch came down Phantom grabbed his arm and yanked Leon down as hard as he could. Leon didn't have time to avoid what happened next. The bastard brought his head up as he pulled him down, their foreheads meeting like a horrible car collision that sent a white flash across his eyes. He couldn't help but stagger off the man, as all he saw was stars. Trying to shake off his clouded vision as he went for his handgun, which he spotted not far away through his hazy peripheral. Sweat and blood dripped from his head as he brought the weapon up. Phantom was on his feet already, yanking the offensive cheap wood from his oozing leg and tossing it aside. Leon aimed the gun and fired, but he was suddenly seized by surprise when Phantom darted sideways. The bullet missed, ripping wood out of the kitchen doorframe. Leon realised that it wasn't just speed that saved the killer. Phantom had managed to get out of the path of the bullet beforehand, which was always to the best thing.

_No one can dodge a bullet once it's fired. Well, almost no one._

As taken back by the man's speed as he was, he didn't stop, about to fire another shot when Phantom attacked, sending his knife at Leon's throat again. He gasped as he moved to the right to avoid it, firing his gun again. The shot: to his surprise hit the blade in the man's hand. Phantom's knife flew out of his grasp when the bullet impacted against it, the force of the sudden impact sending the man in black into a spinning motion. But it didn't stop him, using that momentum as he let out a kick into Leon's chest, knocking him through the doorway and into the hall, falling onto his back. Anger rose again as he lifted his body (which felt sorer by the second), firing several shots towards his enemy. Phantom moved out of view before any rounds hit their intended mark.

That was when everything went black.

The dim hallway lights, along with the brightness of the apartment room suddenly died, and shadow took a strangling hold on everything. The power must have been cut Leon thought, which also meant that Phantom had other partners nearby. But this sudden change in events had created fearful screams throughout the building. First the gunshots and now this. He knew that people would be scared, and hopefully someone with half a brain would have called the police by now. He hoped. And just when he prayed that no one would come out to investigate what was happening, his ears caught the sound in the hall. A door opening not far from him.

"Hey what the hell's going- " a sleepy voice began.

"I heard shooting," another joined in.

A torch light suddenly entered the hall, falling onto Leon who quickly fell against the wall, keeping to the left of the doorway he'd just fallen through. He couldn't see the person who held the light, but the frightful yelp as it fell onto him was all too audible. A shriek passed through the mouth of the resident as Leon stood there, gun in hand. _Well what would _you_ think Kennedy? Gunshots. Blackout. They're bound to think you up to something not good. _Leon kept his eyes from the light._  
_

"Stay inside!" he said. "And call the cops."

But whoever they were, they had already dropped the flashlight. It impacted with a muffled thump against the thin carpet just as a door slammed shut. Leon reached down for the flashlight, it's bright beam spilling across the floor, towards the stairway further down. As he crouched beside it his mind went back to the room he'd just involuntarily exited. Phantom was still in there, waiting. Leon had to play things carefully. Until the police arrived- and they would, he was on his own. His guard couldn't falter or he'd be dead before he knew what hit him.

His fingers grasped the torch, lifting it upwards and bringing it's light into unison with his gun. He slowly moved forward as frightened cries continued, carrying to his ears through thin walls that he thought might as well have been comprised of sheets of paper. He brought the flashlight into the room, illuminating only a fraction of the area. It only took a couple of seconds to find that Phantom was no longer in the living room, which meant he'd either headed into the bedroom on the left, or the kitchen on the right from which he'd previously emerged. A quick scan of the window revealed that the glass had indeed been shattered completely by the earlier gunshot. Phantom could have escaped that way he thought, though something about that thought didn't feel right. He stepped further inside, listening out for any movement. There was nothing, not a sound in the eerie apartment. He kept his gun on the kitchen doorway, his eyes shifting towards the bedroom entrance constantly. The door was closed, but that didn't mean Phantom wasn't there. _Check the kitchen first. _He stepped to the right of the doorway, gripping tightly on the gun, then moving swiftly, pointing the weapon through to the kitchen, ready to kill the instant he saw him. Leon's brow wrinkled as he viewed the area in front of him, his eyes following the light as he cast it across every inch of the kitchen. Phantom wasn't in there. _The bedroom! _Leon knew that it was the only other possibility. The idea of that crazed assassin jumping out of the window still remained highly unlikely.

_Where are you? You son of a bitch._

That's when he finally heard the sounds coming from outside. Startled conversation roared up towards the window from down in the street, which made Leon think that people in the floors below him had heard the ruckus taking place, thinking it best to leave the building fast. It would attract even more attention from nearby buildings- which was fine by him. Leon was glad that the people living downstairs had gotten out. He guessed that the people on his floor and upstairs were still too confused the scared to leave their rooms, at least he hoped that was the case. It was better if they just stayed hidden, as something told him that Phantom wouldn't hesitate to kill any of them.

Leon quickly brought his gun and torch back towards the front door when he heard something else. A slight wet gargling noise had come and gone before he could register the sound clearly, but within a couple of seconds a small shape came rolling across the floor of the hall, just from the right of the hallway, coming right by and passing out of sight. Leon's eyes gaped open when the flashflight caught sight of the soccerball sized object for just a moment. His mouth opened but no sound came out. The image of what he'd viewed from the beam of the flashlight wedged into his mind, clamping on tight and refusing to let go.

_That wasn't... did that really just happen?_

Anger boiled up inside the agent at what he'd just seen. Wondering briefly as he moved back towards the door why it was that others always payed the price for the messed up ways of these evil people. Umbrella, Wesker, Saddler, and now Phantom. All they did was make an end of innocent people wherever they went as if it were nothing, and it made Leon sick. He had to do something about this and he had to do it now. The blood on his forehead was already turning to dry flakes on his sweaty skin, and the pain had subsided for now. At least he could still think straight, and that was something to be thankful for. The head collision had dazed the crap out of him, though it didn't seem to affect the hitman much. Leon didn't didn't even want to wonder what was going on with that man. The way he moved was nearly impossible, not to mention the fact that he was easily as strong as a man twice his size. But none of these things came close to the malice he was capable of.

Leon slowly dipped his head out into the hall, ignoring what had rolled off to the left and looking to the right. The flashlight showed nothing at first, and then he saw the dark red on the floor, a blood trail that soaked deep, spilling off down the hall, vanishing back in a terrible scarlet river towards Leon's room. He didn't hesitate to follow the trail, softly treading back down the way he'd come, expecting an ambush to happen at any moment. And still there was that one question that loomed over him since seeing the severed horror roll past, the one to which the answer skillfully evaded Leon's grasp. _How did he do it? How in the world did he get around me like that?_

Leon would have tried harder to solve this riddle if not for the fact that more people could die if he didn't deal with things here and now. Unraveling the mystery of that lunatic's abilities would have to wait until he was dead. In Leon's mind the man's death was the _only_ outcome, or at least the safest one. He readily checked the staircase on his right as he went by. Nothing stirred on the pale steps leading up or down. The comotion outside in the street had taken on a low hum in the background of the Leon's senses. He knew that this bloody path was just another game by Phantom, but it was hardly something he wanted to play. This hitman was killing people simply to see Leon's reactions, working his nerves, finding out what would work best to throw him off balance. This affected him only to a digree, as Leon had faced death before and as terrible as the sights had been so far the agent could take it.

He reached the door to his apartment with no other interruptions. Only the hushed voices of the scared people who were hiding could be heard, and once again he was grateful that everyone had done the smart thing and stayed in their rooms. Well, almost everyone. There was the man- at least he thought what had rolled by the door was male, and Leon would had to have been an idiot to not know where the rest of him was. Phantom was frighteningly twisted, making the agent think he deserved four straight-jackets. One for every season of the year.

He stepped within his doorway, surveying the area (which had taken on a rather haunting atmosphere) with his light, wondering where the rest of the latest victim was. It didn't take long to find him. The flashlight discovered him almost right away, making Leon's jaw drop as he stepped further into the room. He'd already swept the torch across to his kitchen and in his living room, which just left what was now on his couch. The sight sent a deathly chill down his spine, the hairs spiking restlesstly on the back of his neck. The headless body sat upright in the centre of Leon's couch, hands folded over it's lap. _Holy fuck! Even the fingers are interlocked__._ The dark blue of the man's sweatshirt was now a glistening deep purple across his shoulders and chest. But the way the body sat there: as if in a hospital waiting room, awaiting the results of his test. Probably bad news. The poor man wouldn't have to worry about bad news ever again. Leon couldn't count how many different levels of 'fucked up' this really was. And he thought he'd seen everything. Cleary not.

He was shaken out of his trance when a small flicker of red and blue came from the back window to his left. The park lay out beyond but was only illuminated by a few tall lights here and there. He then heard the sirens ever so faintly. The cops had finally arrived, though he only saw the flashing lights for a moment. A small alley ran through the middle of the building from the street- leading into the park, giving red and blues a moment to present themselves to him. Now maybe this situation would turn around a little.

He slowly backed away from the window, turning around to leave the room and meet up with the police when a sound stopped him. A slight thud of something solid hitting the carpet just by the door, and when Leon saw the grenade tumble into the room in front of him the air was suddenly vacuumed out of his body. He spun around, running for the window. On any normal occasion an action as drastic as this wouldn't be performed, or even contemplated. However a live grenade (and Leon was certain it would be) changed that in a heartbeat. His body went ploughing through the glass, sending shards bursting outward as he fell into the cool air of the early hours. The explosion that followed tore out his window frame and shook the building before he'd even landed. Concern for where he might end up and what his condition would be afterward was currently absent. He felt the impact, though it was far from what he would have expected, finding what he'd landed on was in fact a large hedge. He'd forgotten that the entrance to the park was lined with a thick green privet. Leon began shaking himself free from his entanglement of scratching twigs and leeves. He felt like the luckiest man on the planet.

Terrified cries howled through the night: from the apartment and the street on the other side. The cops would be coming around this way to investigate any minute. Leon pulled himself from the hedge, tumbling lightly onto the grass at the edge of the shadowed park area, and was about to lift himself from his crouch when he looked up, and saw him, standing right over Leon, maybe as close as three feet. Flames that had risen in his room danced a little, across that inhuman stare. A 9mm in his right hand, pointed directly at Leon's skull. He couldn't see where his own weapon had gone, the gun and the flashlight were out of sight and even if he could find where his sidearm landed he knew that grasping for it would be fruitless. He'd be shot and killed before he could make a single move. The glass and bush cuts on his arms meant nothing anymore, seeing the macabre stare in the eyes of the assassin, the pleasure on Phantom's face, so clear at this moment. Leon knew he'd just slipped up. This man had somehow gotten by him more than once, and now he was paying the price. His life was going to end at the hands of the grinning killer.

Leon's heart beat so hard that it could have punched it's way right out of his chest when the shot rang out. His face, a pale mask of defeat. He wondering how he could have avoided this outcome. Falling right into the man's trap the way he had, which it had been a careless act on his part, one which he would never get the chance to rectify. But then his bright blue eyes widened as surprise took hold of him yet again. The bullet from the killer's handgun flew mere inches past the right side of his head. The shot rang painfully loud in his ears but it never touched him, buried somewhere in the dirt at the base of the hedge.

He couldn't believe it, he thought he was dead but as Leon saw the massive smile on Phantom's face he realised that he'd missed on purpose. His grey eyes lighting up with amusement at the younger man's anger which had returned full force. He watched from where he crouched, completely still, seeing Phantom's eyes shift for a moment to the bloody wound in his own leg, the injury from the peice of broken table. Phantom looked back at Leon with a smile that the agent thought looked strangely like one of approval. Deep approval.

"That was enjoyable," Phantom said, satisfaction flowing freely. He then- to Leon's further surprise ejected the magazine from the gun, throwing the weapon and the clip in opposite directions. "Congratulations Mr Kennedy, you've earned yourself another day. Maybe when Ada screams her last scream, I'll be able to see your face after all."

"Stay away from her!" Leon growled. Surprised at himself at how conflicting his feelings for Ada were. One minute he was judging her for her previous actions, and then the next he was willing to kill anyone who harmed her.

"Well if you like you could always run to her defence, as you seem quite skilled in that regard," Phantom said as he began to slowly back away into the shadows of the park. "I think Ada is going to hate France after this. Patrick's little house of pain will not be kind of her. I'd hurry up and get there if I were you."

_So Ada's headed for France then._ Leon thought._ But… "Patrick's house of pain?" What the hell does that mean?_

Leon watched as Phantom's ghostly shape backed further into the dark, blending into abyss like black liquid, vanishing completely. Leon was convinced he was finally gone, though following him was pointless right now. He needed to find out if everyone else in the apartment was ok, and he needed to contact Hunnigan right away. He could hear the footsteps of what he hoped to be approaching police, stepping through the alley towards the park. Obviously they had heard the single shot from Phantom as well as the explosion from the grenade. Leon quickly picked himself to meet up with them. That was when the entire apartment complex began to explode.

* * *

_I really hope you all like this lastest chapter. Its you guys that encourage me to continue and I've appreciated all your views and opinions so far. Also, I know that some of the paragraphs are alot larger in this chapter, basically due to the action in some of the scenes where I didn't want the pacing to be harmed. I hope it doesn't ruin the flow of the chapter for you.  
_


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter six is finally done. Sorry for taking so long in updating. I'm usually busy working on something, either writing something else or doing something or other. Hope you like this chapter, and thankyou to everyone who's reviewed and shared their thoughts, and whoever else is reading it right now, thanks guys._

* * *

**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter Six**

Wesker sat upon a raised chair, residing within the centre of a circular chamber. A cluster of large screens were displayed five feet in front of him: one of them revealed footage of Leon S. Kennedy's apartment, more accurately, what was now left of it. Over half the building had been reduced to dull hills of smouldering ash, packed with the charred remains of human beings. An unexpected move by Daniel King; resulting in quite the spectacle of local police and fire fighters, scurrying about in a pointless attempt to be useful. _It's not working out well for them_, Wesker thought, and he couldn't help smiling at the futility of it all.

Leon had been in sight for a moment; talking to the police before making a call -no doubt to his people- and then he was gone. Wesker had clicked several keys on the pad, placed into the right arm of the seat, zooming into the scene, which had held the agent in view. By the tormented expression on his face Wesker guessed that King's actions had had the desired effect. His acts of violence had done the job nicely, and now Agent Kennedy would be on the move.

The last rabbit had been drawn out of its burrow, with the hunter eagerly waiting.

Wesker was currently speaking to King via a com-link. "A job well done indeed."

"Naturally." King said, perhaps a little too smugly.

"You relayed the information to Kennedy?"

"I told him enough to get him moving. He won't be able to stay away, now that he knows she's sharing the bulls-eye."

Wesker had stumbled across vital information, information that had given him a change of heart in Kennedy's fate. He'd already filled Phantom in on some of these details not long before the apartment encounter. Of course as soon as the plan had been changed King could have simply informed Leon of Ada's destination, without violence. But no, King had to make the agent believe that he was a real threat to her. Wesker would never be able to draw him to the designated place otherwise. And so Phantom was free to wreak havoc. Everybody wins.

There was a certain location that had held Wesker's interest for a while now, but it was only now that he had all the intelligence he needed in order to finally act. Wilforn Island: a small island just off the coast of France. It was one of the few places that had caught Wesker's attention, for more reasons than one. One of these reasons involved the elusive Ada Wong. He'd not long ago discovered that her narrow minded superiors within The Organisation were sending her on a mission to said island. Some kind of retrieval operation -he didn't know the full details of it- but in the course of obtaining this latest intel, a splendid idea had crossed his mind.

"Excellent work," he said. "Now all the players will converge on each other."

"Wesker," King said. "I know this is highly unlikely but, how do you know Kennedy won't arrive with help?"

"That will not happen. While he will no doubt feel a sense of duty to track _you_ down, bringing anyone else along might put Miss Wong at risk." Wesker was convinced that Kennedy would want to head for France on his own. His feelings for that woman wouldn't have it any other way.

"If his government got their hands on her, well, she'd be finished," King said. "Locking her up for life would be a generous end, considering her past exploits."

It was true. Ada had brushed many powerful people the wrong way in her cloak n' dagger life. The only thing she really had going for her at this moment was her usefulness to her employers, and of course Leon's ridiculous attractions. The agent wouldn't let anything happen to her if he could help it, and that meant heading off by himself. Back into her life, and into the end of his.

"That's exactly why Leon will be travelling alone," Wesker paused, smiling. "He'll no doubt come up with a reasonable excuse to go solo. I doubt they'll question this; they know next to nothing about you, save your code name, as I'm sure you introduced yourself as such."

King laughed a little at that; the code name, Phantom. Earned among Umbrella's hired murderers. But it wasn't really so much a code name, more like a call sign, as stealth and invisibility was always a constant with King. As was his tendency to suddenly make a vile scene. Wesker had seen this in action; King's abilities were quite remarkable even among his peers. But then he didn't really have any peers, not when it came to ending lives. "They'll have no idea what to do with an alias like that," King said. "Kennedy will figure out what I told him and find the island in no time, of that there is no doubt in my mind."

"He _is _a smart little fellow, that much is true," Wesker said. "I'm certain that once he reaches the island it wont be long before he runs into her."

He was more than aware that Phantom had been waiting for this moment for almost a whole year now, when he could finally send Ada to her maker. Wesker had purposely kept Ada's assignments based in Europe and Asia, where as King mostly operated on the other side of the planet. So far (for very good reasons) he had wanted to keep them apart, still having uses for Ada at the time. She and King had an unpleasant history to consider.

Wesker first met Ada Wong a year before the Spencer estate and the Arklay facility were destroyed; she'd already been with The Organisation for months at that point, and Wesker had seen her as a possible tool to further his own goals. While still only twenty-three years old at the time, Ada was a young and valuable asset. King, on the other hand, had come into their small circle some time after the destruction of Raccoon City, and unlike Ada he worked exclusively for Wesker. For a time he and Wong had been partnered with each other, running operations for Wesker, mostly in Europe and South America.

Things had taken a sinister turn one night in December of 2003. Ada and King's final mission had ended badly. Very badly. It wasn't the most pleasant of stories, and it took Wesker considerable time to put things back in order. Not that he had cared too much; he'd achieved a great deal in that year.

He'd always known that Ada was volatile, at least after her first encounter with Kennedy. Who would have thought that one young cop (who had been barely old enough to shave) could cause so much trouble. Wesker hadn't seen it coming. How could anyone have? But now this had to come to an end. Ada hadn't exactly betrayed Wesker because in truth, she was never really on his side. Of course he was always aware of this, but being one of the most highly trained operatives on the planet meant she was still useful.

But that was all over now. Turning the Plagas sample over to The Organisation would be her final offence, because as soon as the time was right, she would see the magnitude of the fire she'd been playing with, and that fire would burn her alive.

"Do you know what the organisation are sending her to do?" King asked. "I recall you mentioning something about a lab on the island."

"Oh I think I have an idea what they're after," Wesker paused, his mouth curling upward. "Though I think Ms Wong may be a little nervous about this _final _mission."

"Final?" King asked. "Oh, so this is it. She's satisfied her superiors enough has she? She's going to finally get what she's been after all this time."

"As I understand it, yes," Wesker said. "Everything she's worked so hard for depends on her success on the island." Wesker wondered how she would look when she realised that all of her efforts were for nothing.

He flicked his gaze to the right for a moment, towards the door, standing less than ten feet away. Sound still carried through the heavy metal, raised voices muffled through just about, though it was enough for Wesker to pick up words. Someone was arguing, and he knew exactly what the debate concerned.

"Well I'll just have to make sure she fails miserably then, won't I?" King said.

Wesker knew only too well how devastating her failure would be. "It's the only way this can end for her, and it's of her own her making."

"There's something I don't understand," King said. "Why all the trouble? While I agree that bringing them together may throw them off balance, it may also be tactically dangerous. Not that I care, but two wolves are always deadlier than one," he paused. "So what's so special about Wilforn Island that requires the both of them?"

Wesker had a feeling that he would eventually want an explanation; for not being able to kill the agent the first time around, and it was only fare to provide one. Death was Daniel King's opium after all. It was quite impressive how smart the hitman was. Of course Wesker wanted more than just to kill Kennedy and Wong, he needed a specific task completed first.

"Three birds, one stone, Phantom."

King chuckled; it was a horrible sound to most, quiet but increasingly morbid as time went by. "Ahh, and for a moment I thought you just wanted to stick it to the lovebirds. There's something _you _want from the island."

"Of course," Wesker said. "You see, Wilforn Island has remained undisturbed from outsiders for near two decades now. A few months ago I came across information regarding an old Umbrella installation on the island. After some effort I uncovered a few very interesting facts about the island lab. One of which is that the facility is still in operation."

"Is that so… hmmm," King paused. "So what's so important about this particular hideaway spot?" he sounded extremely curious now.

It was happening again, he thought. Wesker knew this would come sooner or later. Phantom was becoming irreversibly involved –due to Kennedy's ability to beat the odds- and in some ways this would prove to be extremely useful. His love for his work: in some ways King's mind couldn't be comprehended. Wesker however understood him better than anyone else. His skill and growing instability would be a tool in Wesker's final design for Ms Wong and her government friend. One way or another he would get what he wanted, and this little play would run its course and be over with.

"It appears that after Umbrella's financial collapse, the facility was supposedly closed down," Wesker explained. "But I've been told that supply boats make monthly runs to the island. I've also heard that the research conducted there is different somehow."

"I take it you don't know _how_ different?"

"Rumours," Wesker said. "Just rumours, that their research is highly advanced in some unknown area."

Wesker didn't think it was necessary to tell King too much. Being one of his top people Wesker had more trust in King than he did in most. However his true motivations were not up for discussion with anyone, and that included code name: Phantom. All he knew was what he needed to know. As long as King was allowed free reign, to make Kennedy's and Wong's lives a living hell then Wesker didn't think he would care anyway. As King himself once said to him, 'As long as murder's on the menu, the fat bastard can eat the rest.'

"So what kind of defences do these folks have in place?" King asked. "Anyone working in seclusion like that would clearly be alert to intruders."

Wesker knew that these remaining 'so-called' geniuses might be edgy enough by now to see the arrival of an enemy - even with their eyes shut. That was especially the case, since any former Umbrella scientist that was unaccounted for were considered fugitives by the US government. Most of the damage caused by the T-Virus had been done on American soil after all.

"The team working on Wilforn Island have wanted to remain hidden, so they've only employed a relatively small number of security," Wesker could still hear the heated discussion going on just outside. He knew that in a few moments his presence would be required.

"Well that would make sense," Phantom said. "They wouldn't want to draw too much attention."

"Staying off the radar -as it where- is a serious concern for them," Wesker paused. "But satellite images have shown something else; B.O.W's, roaming freely on the island's surface."

"What kind?"

"I don't recall the breed," Wesker replied. "Though I imagine they're T-virus engineered."

King chuckled; that same sickening sound again. "Well that would indeed put an end to the likes of the curious."

Wesker wondered briefly if the man who ran the facility was already aware of the attention. "The B.O.W's would serve as a formidable guard, considering their numbers. And I don't want to waste my resources -or my time- on an encounter with them. Getting into the facility below ground is my only concern."

"And if the tragic couple die after clearing a path for you then they would have served their purpose," King laughed. "That is priceless. Use them to wear each other down- "

"And then _you_ mop up what's left of them," Wesker finished. "Precisely." he thought that would please him. _What a cruel thing he is._

Wesker couldn't hear any reply for a moment, but he had a strong feeling that Daniel King was savouring this information. Wesker would have to finish up this little chat. He knew that his presence was needed outside now, or trouble might ensue that couldn't be rectified. He rubbed his temple in minor annoyance at the sounds. The voices, filled with worry. So little. So petrified.

"It's a shame," King sighed. "Kennedy put up a fight like I've not known in a long time, you should have seen him go. Oh well, all good things have to end some time. Seeing the look on Ada's face when I rip the life out of him, now that will be spectacular."

Wesker wasn't sure what would make King happier: killing a man who had given him his challenge, or killing the woman who had nearly ended his life. It was difficult to know for certain. Except of course; King was happier when facing a challenge, and with Leon he'd found just that. A great banquet of conflict he could sink his teeth into. With Ada it was different. King hated her, so much so that it appeared to cause him a painful reaction at hearing her name, as if being dealt a harsh blow. In fact Ada Wong was the only thing connecting King _with_ anger, as he very rarely felt anything close to rage.

Wesker rarely ever stressed over anything. This was no exception. King's enthusiasm was unbreakable, even when he'd had been a hired killer for Umbrella Wesker had been impressed with him, and when Raccoon City went up in smoke the man had more or less turned his back on the company. He always did know when to walk away. That was when Wesker had approached him. They'd always possessed a certain respect for each other, both unflinching in their beliefs and desires. What they wanted was all that mattered, and they _would_ achieve these things, no matter who or what they had to pull down to do it.

"In any event neither of them will be an issue when this is over," Wesker replied. "Contact me once you've reached the island."

"I'll be in touch." And then King was gone.

With the discussion over with, Wesker rose from his chair and strode toward the door. He was confident that everything would proceed as planned with the Wilforn Island op, and as long as Leon cared enough to take the bait (and Wesker was positive he would) then everything would fall into place soon enough. Phase one complete.

The door opened, sliding into the wall automatically as Wesker neared it. Two armed guards stood at either side when he emerged into the passage beyond, there he also saw two other men; the older man was Benjamin Watson, a talented senior researcher whom Wesker had loaned from Tricell's newly developed bio-weapons division. The fifty plus scientist had proved himself enough for Wesker to leave him to his work, for now. The other man was much younger, working under Watson, though Wesker couldn't recall his name.

They both looked rather shaken, the younger man more so. But that didn't stop either of them from halting their discussion when he approached. "Gentlemen. She's refusing her treatment again." It wasn't a question.

Watson wiped at the perspired bald spot that made up most of his head, opening his mouth to speak when his understudy beat him to it. "We need to contain her sir, now."

Wesker's gaze narrowed beneath his black shades as he eyed the younger man. "Oh? And why is that exactly?"

"She's out of control." He replied.

"We tried to give her the usual injection sir," Watson explained, quite calmly considering what he must have gone through just now. "Everything seemed fine- "

"It didn't seem fine to me." The young man cut in again.

"Dale, shut up!" Watson hissed before continuing. "She resisted; the guards tried to restrain her, that was when she... " he paused, as if looking for the right word. "Retaliated."

"Retaliated?" the younger man (apparently called Dale) said. His voice high, saturated with stress, actually making him sound as if he were going to sob at any moment. "She just killed five guards! Call me crazy, but where I come from there's a _slightly_ different word for what that little shit just did."

Both guards by the door, and even Dr. Watson, bounced back with a frightful start when Wesker seized young Dale by the throat. His hand shot out, moving at a speed that the young man couldn't fathom if he tried. His eyes growing into tearful O's as gloved fingers cut off the air with an iron grip.

"You, young man; are Watson's assistant, ergo your personal views are meaningless," Wesker said, holding the man firmly and with little effort. "Your only function is to assist, nothing more. Is this understood?"

Dale's face had risen in its colour to an almost ketchup shade, the veins of his forehead threatening to explode as he feebly clasped his hands to Wesker's arm. However he managed a single nod, and Wesker released him, letting him fall against the far wall, choking violently as he fought to catch his breath whilst trying to stand on legs made of rubber.

Watson never moved to help him, his eyes abnormally wide behind his spectacles, almost cartoon-like. He simply took a box of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and lit one as Wesker turned towards him. "Is she still in the cafeteria?"

"Yes sir, the medication also," Watson said, his smoking hand trembling. "We would have retrieved it but she made it quite clear that she didn't want us around."

"I'll deal with this for now," Wesker replied, and then he became curious about something. "What was her condition as you entered?"

"She seemed perfectly happy," Watson explained, taking a nervous drag of his cigarette between words. "As happy as she ever is when alone. I think she broke the vending machine open again."

Wesker ignored the last comment, finding it almost admiringly amusing how her mood could morph from peaceful to enraged at such a quickened rate. One second she was as content as any teenaged girl could be, and the next she was insanely angry, violent, and homicidal it seemed. A more extreme version of a regular teen, however one that Wesker thought to be so much more.

"Dr Watson," he said. "In the future it would be prudent to avoid crowding her. The guards are to keep watch of her but to also maintain a healthy distance, so don't involve them ever again," Wesker's tone was a collected one, but the edge in his voice was as clear as day. "She isn't as understanding of precautions as I am, and men with guns will only aggravate her, and that, as you've witnessed first hand is never a good thing."

"Of course sir," Watson nodded his sweat gleaming head nervously. And then Wesker moved off as the man tended to his protégé.

Wesker moved through the complex towards the cafeteria area, towards one of his latest projects. This project was proving to be a minor handful. Wesker would consider it minor basically because the loss of a few expendable guards wasn't something to be stressed over, as they were indeed, expendable. Five guards dead. This wasn't the first time something of such nature had happened since her arrival, though manpower was not a problem for Wesker. Time, on the other hand was.

_Anyone can be replaced. Except her, she's one of a kind... for now._

As Wesker turned into a narrow passage –maybe thirty feet from the cafeteria entrance- he noticed something strange begin to happen. The passage was dimming the further he went, the lights above his head seeming to loose their brightness. The corridor was filling with a deep gloom; white walls becoming less apparent, turning slowly into grey with every step he took.

A single corner of his mouth rose up a little when he concluded what was happening. It was her. She was playing games it seemed. The lights had not darkened in any way; only his perception of the passage had changed. It was one of her many wonderful tricks. He'd seen first hand what she was capable of, and impressive was hardly a word for any of it.

Since coming here she had barely spoken a word to a single person other than Wesker, insisting that the likes of the miniscule (as she had put it) stay away from her. Though despite her dislike of others she had reluctantly agreed to let Watson administer her medication. Just a little something –created by Watson- to keep her temper in check, and it would certainly flare up at times. The dosage had been strenghtened twice since the start of this.

Other people hadn't been as lucky as Watson; the truth was Wesker had been sidetracked by the entire issue with Las Plagas, and had left her treatment in Watson's apparently capable hands. Maybe now it was time to rethink future interactions he thought as he walked in what was now pitch black. She was inside his head.

It was a strange sensation he felt when thinking about this, reminding him of his time within the Arklay containment area beneath the Spencer mansion. On occasion he'd go down and watch starving Hunter's: dead end abominations turning on each other through hunger. Survival of the fittest. And the Strongest. And the dumbest. Amusing indeed, but then everyone had their guilty pleasures, and Wesker was no different. It seemed that the young girl wasn't either. Although he wasn't sure she was in the least bit guilty when doing anything.

He walked confidently through the deep nothingness she'd created, all the time knowing that it wasn't real. Others would believe, and be frightened until their very bones shook, but he was never the type to become unnerved. That may have been why she'd accepted him he thought. He'd been aware for some time that these tricks were of her doing; if the lights had really gone out he'd still be able to see in the dark, his superior senses allowing for a far greater perception of things.

"Hello daddy."

He stopped walking, hearing her voice call out from the darkness. He guessed that he was now standing in the cafeteria despite not having the area presented before him. To his pleasant surprise he couldn't tell which direction her voice had come from, though he could hear her breathing; small calm sounds of inhaling and exhaling, maybe five seconds apart, no indication of her actions only moments ago. No regret, no remorse, no looking back. Extraordinary.

Wesker hadn't seen any physical evidence of her killings yet, but he thought he would before their conversation was done. Now that he was there he was confident she would do as she was told. "Hello Lisa." He said. "Are you going to brighten things up?"

"Maybe." She responded. Her tone was almost miserable; perhaps she thought he was angry with her.

"There's no one else with me Lisa."

"I know."

"Then if you please," he said calmly. "I want to talk to you my dear."

Illumination returned instantly, light spilling back into his vision, and now Wesker had a clear view of the cafeteria. He'd never had any need for this place himself, but had seen more and more of it since the girl's arrival. Long tables lined the wall on his right; another row ran through the room's centre. Vending machines lay to the left; one ripped half open, soda cans spilling across the floor. Beyond that lay a fairly sizable kitchen, which had also been in use frequently in the past few weeks.

Wesker had found it strangely entertaining one day when Lisa had made a childish display when her meal was apparently cold. The cook in question would probably never sleep in the dark ever again. _Plenty of therapy bills up ahead_, Wesker thought, he could have laughed at the thought. He could only imagine what she put inside the man's head.

At the volatile age of fifteen she could be a frightening sight when angered. But Wesker knew that she had to be kept in check, as without his guidance she could do a great deal of damage. Despite her intelligence she was still very much a child, and would no doubt misuse her abilities if he didn't direct her properly. It was a difficult task to be sure but one that he had great confidence in achieving.

"Now, that's much better." He said as he began to survey the aftermath.

The blood of the girl's victims was everywhere; various severed body parts of the five guards could be seen, scattered about the area like breadcrumbs. One unfortunate man was pinned to the wall to Wesker's right; a broken table leg pierced his chest, keeping his lifeless body suspended, a faint tapping was audible as droplets of red impacted onto the crimson puddle below. Just guards. Not important.

He saw the girl: Lisa Sanderan, sitting on the other side of the room, on the farthest table in the centre row. Her legs were tucked in close to her chest, her arms tightly hugging them; the lower half of her face lay buried between her knees. There was sadness in her bright blue eyes as she stared across at him; her long black ponytail falling limply over her left shoulder, trailing halfway over her chest.

Her appearance at this moment seemed so innocent. It was difficult to believe how cruel she could be; and how she was able to make people believe terrifying things that weren't anywhere close to being a reality. The particular trick she had used with Wesker was simply making his mind believe that he was standing in pitch black. Cutting off the singles from his eyes to his brain. Other people in the facility had been convinced that monsters were chasing them. They should consider themselves lucky he thought, because if it were up to her not one of them would still be breathing.

"Sorry for all the mess," she said. Even her voice was apologetic.

"It doesn't matter right now my dear," Wesker replied, making his way towards her. "Hired guards can be obtained anywhere."

"I meant about smashing the vending machine," she corrected. "I was thirsty."

Wesker noted the open can of soda sitting next to her, and what she'd done to retrieve it. "Ahh, I see."

She wasn't sorry for the night's fatalities, how wonderfully funny.

She'd called him father for a while now, something that he was unsure of how to react to. But then he thought it didn't matter, as it was partly thanks to him that she existed in the first place, so maybe in that case it was a fitting title after all. "Dr. Watson was trying to administer your treatment Lisa."

"He's a liar," she said in a sudden outburst of anger. "He was polite on the outside, oh yeah. But I heard his thoughts; he thinks I'd be better off locked away like an animal, those exact words in that tiny bald head."

Dr. Watson did indeed think she was better off kept in stasis -where she'd been found months ago- believing her too dangerous and unpredictable, as the original reports from her first tests had stated so bleakly. Short sighted old farts. Could none of them see the bigger picture? Watson had protested briefly to her awakening, but only briefly. Wesker thought she'd slept enough, and that he could use her in a way that others couldn't.

There was something else that he found extremely interesting about Lisa. Since coming out of her long crio-sleep she had not slept a single night. Not one night. Not one hour. Not one minute. It was theorized that because she had full control of her brain (all one hundred percent of it) that her psychic strength in some way (unknown to even him) rejuvenated her on a level like nothing Wesker had ever seen. Remarkable. _Better off locked up? I think not. A god is more useful whilst free. _

"I will educate him in his train of thought," Wesker said, moving towards her table. The case that contained the syringe was on the table next to the one she sat upon. "But taking this medicine is necessary."

"Those people make me sick Dad," she complained, her wide eyes watching him as he stepped over someone's ribcage. "Crawling around the place like mice looking for scraps. How can you stand having them around you?"

Wesker couldn't help but grin. _In some ways we have a great deal in common_, he thought. "Sometimes there are tasks fit only for lesser beings Lisa," he reached the syringe case. "Normal humans still have their uses."

Lisa lifted her head from her knees at his last words, seeming confused. "Really?"

"Believe it or not." He replied.

As Wesker opened the case he watched as Lisa let her legs dangle over the side of the table. She was small so her feet didn't even touch the ground. She took the can in her hand, taking a sip as he removed the syringe from its foam indentation. Watching her hold the metallic container, he slowly raised his eyebrows with curiosity. "I surprised your holding it Lisa. Wouldn't it be more productive to use your abilities?"

As Wesker said this he began to notice something: Lisa was still looking straight at him as it happened, as the remaining dozen or so soda cans rose from the ground all at once, taking to the air and spreading through the room, moving in random ways, not one matching the other. Some were twirling, some rotating, others drawing shapes in mid air. It was truly incredible to see.

"I _have_ been using them," she said. "But if I didn't use my hands at times there'd be no point in them being there."

"Good point," Wesker said. If it was there then use it.

Lisa frowned as he approached her with the needle, looking ready to recoil any second. "Do I have to?"

"I don't need you killing all of my staff at this point Lisa," Wesker moved in, to his relief she didn't move away. "I have a great many things to do, and I don't want anymore deaths right now."

He gestured for her to hold out her arm. A small huff escaped her lips as she raised her left limb, rolling the sleeve up. "There's a bigger dosage in there, isn't that right? Watson thought it before he wet himself."

"Indeed there is," he said. "Your mood can turn from joyful to raging within seconds. This is what will calm you down." He paused. "And you want to see the outside world again don't you?"

"Yes of course."

He saw it in her eyes; that longing, her powerful desire to leave this place. "Then you have to help me. And you have to control yourself, at least for now."

Wesker inserted the needle into the vein, sending its contents into her. She didn't put up a fight, and to be fair to her, she could have. The soda cans were still floating around as this was happening. She was very skilful with her powers, and she would become even greater still if he could keep her from getting out of control.

"I will," she said. "As long as _you_ give me this stuff and not Watson. I don't like the man, he's bald, and small, and he sweats too much, and smokes all the time." She paused as Wesker removed the empty syringe. "His jittery face is just… annoying."

Wesker knew it would take time; she was only a child still, but her potential for greater things overshadowed everything he'd ever seen. He never dreamt that the newborn baby he'd once viewed as completely irrelevant would become something so marvellously vast in terms of power. He had seen her display these powers since arriving; he'd watched the terror in people as she planted nightmares in their minds, trapping them in their own personal hells.

This is what he wanted. The old B.O.W's were obsolete with close range destructive ability. The best and most destructive weapons were always the ones that had the range to kill from a great distance. With this kind of power, Wesker could re-write the course of human history. And the likes of Ada Wong and Leon Kennedy would be swept aside like the maggots that they were.

Ada Wong would lose; he'd make sure of it. She would never achieve her sentimental and foolish goal. Her so called reward from The Organisation, promised only upon success of her last mission. There would be no victory for her, this day or any other. All that was waiting for her and her agent friend was their overdue demise.

"I'm going to have to leave soon Lisa," he said, seeing her eyes widen he swiftly added. "But I'll be returning within the next couple of days."

Every single can that had been floating peacefully through the air crashed to the floor all at once. Some exploding as they connected with the ground, sending frothy jets of sweet fluid across the floor. "Why? Why do you have to leave now?"

"There's something very important that I have to complete," he explained calmly. "And it's no place for you. You wont need another treatment until I've come back." He ignored her look of desperate irritation. "Just two days. I'm trusting you Lisa. Can you do this for me?"

"Yes," she said reluctantly. "As long as the cockroaches keep clear I'll be fine."

Of course he'd have to make preparations before he left, making sure she was fed and that staff were away from her at all times. No one would venture into an area that she occupied. It was all a great deal of work, but he wouldn't even consider taking her to Wilforn Island with him, if he did that the entire operation and any hope he had at further advancement could blow up in his face. And that was unacceptable.

* * *

_Hope you like this chapter. Again sorry for the big delay. Let me know what you think and I'll try and get the next one out as soon as I can. Also, Wilforn Island is a completely fictional island that I made up for this fic.  
_


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry again for the late update, I know I keep saying that but I really am. Anyway I hope you all enjoy this chapter, no action in this one but hopefully you will like it._**  
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* * *

**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter Seven**

Leon shifted his head, looking up, his heavy eyes catching the image of Jill entering the living room. She was still half captured by sleep, wrapped in a thick dressing gown and holding a steaming coffee mug in each hand. The beverage's strong fumes intruding on his senses was a welcome sensation; the stench of what remained of his building still gripped his nose like the nasty symptoms of a bad flu.

He'd done very little since arriving at her place, aside from wiping away the dry burgundy flakes from his forehead – though the headache still remained. _Pain's fine, means you're still breathing._

His clothes; (he hadn't even thought of changing yet) were accompanied by layers of dirt, his bare arms crisscrossed with small glass inflictions. A curved slash had drawn a minor tare in his T-shirt, leaving a thin line of deep red, but the wound –which had come from Phantom's knife– hadn't been a very bad one and had clotted some time ago.

When he'd looked at himself in the mirror above Jill's bathroom sink, he had clearly seen the shattered wear on his face, and it wasn't the fight that got to him; he'd suffered worse in the past. It was everything else. Most of his apartment complex was now a smoking ruin; a blood soaked cradle of inanimate meat and bone – people who should _never_ have been involved in the sadistic game, the one Leon was forced to play.

He forced a brief smile as Jill swept silently across the hard wood flooring to the couch, handing out the large cup; on the side it read 'Best Brother Ever!' no doubt a gift to Chris from his sister, and despite the recent ordeal it actually made Leon smile. "Watch it, its hot." Jill said.

"Thanks." Leon took the coffee, taking a quick sip as his mind (for the tenth time) went through the events of the night.

This wickedly mindless atrocity, was the work of one individual. Phantom, he'd called himself. Wesker may have been the one to send this man into Leon's path, but it was the hitman that killed the apartment residents. _Severing heads for kicks, sick bastard! _ It was Phantom who'd pulled the trigger –flipped the switch– whatever.

The only guess Leon could make at how this had happened was maybe Phantom had rigged explosives within the building before the agent's late return. Although Ada had been in the apartment too, so how could he have done these things so silently? And how could he have brought in enough to obliterate most of the apartment without being noticed by a single soul? Leon had met killers in his life, but this time it was impossible to categorise this one, because he wasn't a person, not in Leon's book – far from it.

Leon had tried to wrap up his report to Hunnigan (who was level headed and professional as ever) as quickly as possible. He'd found after speaking to her that Chris had come into the area, apparently seeing the apartment go up from his place, as his and Jill's small house wasn't that far from him. Once Leon had told him what had happened Chris had invited him to stay with them until he was ready to leave for France, though he hadn't liked Leon's idea of heading off alone. It didn't come as much of a surprise when he insisted that if Wesker was involved then he wanted to be in on the mission.

Jill; who had not long been asleep when they both came through the door, and much to Leon's relief had managed to talk the big guy down. Leon didn't need reminding of Chris' history with his former captain, and was as understanding about that as he could be. He'd never been betrayed like that before, so he could never completely relate to Chris' feelings, and in all honesty he hoped he never could.

In any event, it was entirely possible that Wesker wouldn't even be in France. Locating Phantom and subduing him was the first thing on the agenda, at least after reaching Ada.

Leon wondered if Ada already knew that someone was coming for her. She must have known; Ada had sharp instincts and then some (she was certainly no fool) and it seemed –from the way the hitman had spoken of her– as if Phantom and Ada were somehow acquainted (god only knew how) and if that was the case, then she might be ready for him. But after seeing how dangerous Phantom was Leon was certain that things could go either way, and if they went Phantom's way... no. Leon wouldn't entertain the thought.

Leon and Jill turned their eyes towards the stairs when they heard the low thump of footsteps in quick descent, and within seconds Chris came into view, moving into the room, stuffing a small cell phone into the pocket of his jeans. He looked almost as tiered as Leon.

"Everything ok down here?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jill said. "You've got coffee in the kitch."

"Thanks babe," Chris said, heading into the kitchen, calling back as he went. "I just got in contact with the BSAA north American headquarters, asking about that Phantom guy."

"Did they find anything?" Jill asked.

"Zilch," he replied as he emerged with his drink. "Nothing so far, but they said they'd be in touch the moment they dug something up."

"I was told the same thing," Leon added, his voice grim, his hopes of some useful information dying within seconds. "So much for intelligence huh? He must be ex military, probably special forces."

"If the standard issue is a straightjacket, maybe." Jill remarked. No one laughed, but then she didn't find it all that funny either.

"Wait," Chris said. "You said he had an English accent, right?" Leon nodded. "Well then maybe Langley could get the Brits on the line, see if they know anything."

Leon nodded, it wasn't much but at present he'd take any bone thrown his way. "Maybe."

An oppressive silence fell over them for long moments, deafening every inch of Leon's brain. Jill planted herself on the couch next to the special agent, her face a pale mask of concern. Chris looked about the same, both seeing a friend in trouble, and wanting to do what they could to help. Leon saw their worry and it forced a grave frown to knit his eyebrows. _Maybe they wouldn't be so concerned if they knew everything_, he thought.

He still wasn't completely clear on what he had done exactly to piss Wesker off; his mission and his role in what happened in Spain had nothing to do with the former S.T.A.R.S captain.

Jack Krauser: Leon's old friend -turned traitor– had been working for Wesker too it seemed, and now he was dead and apparently that was enough to place a target on Leon's head. Apparently. This was the logical reason (and would be the _only_ one to most people) but something about Ada's explanation didn't sit right in his gut. Something else was going on and Leon had to find out what it was.

Jill placed a gentle hand on the agent's shoulder. "You going to be ok Leon?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I just keep coming back to the people in the building," he trailed off for a moment, seeing that headless body sitting on his couch again. "From what I was told only a handful of residents were absent when the apartment blew."

"You didn't know what that lunatic was going to do," Chris told him, taking a gulp of his coffee before going on. "Wesker doesn't care who dies as long as he gets what he wants."

_But Wesker wasn't the one who killed them_, Leon thought. That murdering spectre that appeared out of nowhere was solely responsible. Coming and going from the abyss, not a care in the world. He wasn't one of Wesker's typical dogs, he was a great white shark, overflowing with malicious killer instinct, and he wanted blood, Leon's blood, and Ada's. True, he wasn't as bad as Wesker in the sense that he wasn't the one pulling the strings. Though in some ways he was worse, because _he_ was on the frontline, where he could orchestrate damage in a far more personal way.

Leon still wasn't sure if the man was physically normal: he seemed stronger – faster. And from what the agent had seen he didn't feel pain either. Then there was whatever training he had: Phantom was very well schooled in hand to hand combat (as good as anyone Leon had met) and certainly had experience. And there had been something in his eyes that was strange, (aside from the blaze of lunacy) Leon wasn't sure how to explain it, but it was as if Phantom was older than he looked.

_He might not feel pain, but he bleeds, and if he bleeds then he can die. There's no such thing as unbeatable._

"Well," Leon said. "If something does come up on this guy then that would be great. Until then I've only got one thing to do and that's track the piece of shit down."

Jill forehead wrinkled a little; she wasn't keen on his idea of going solo either. "You know this is a trap right?"

Leon nodded. "Absolutely. But at least I know where he'll be, and I'm pretty sure he'll find _me _when the time comes. Besides, I can call in the cavalry anytime."

Chris sat down in a small chair not far from the couch, his face set in a deeply troubled way. "What if you don't have time? What if he gets the drop on you before you can make the call?"

"Jesus Leon," Jill said with a slight grimace. "The whole thing is bad news."

Leon managed a chuckle. "Tell me about it. But I can take care of myself."

Chris emptied his coffee mug before leaning forward, his muscular forearms pressing on his knees. "You think it was because of this Krauser then?"

Leon wasn't surprised to hear the name come from Chris; he'd read the Spain report after all. "That must be the reason," he didn't want to lie like this. "He must have been working for Wesker, that's the only thing I can think of."

"Well," Jill said. "Wesker was definitely after that Plagas parasite then,' she let out a deep sigh. 'Good thing he never got his hands on it."

"Yeah," the agent whispered. "Definitely a good thing." He felt like punching himself in the face.

It was obvious that Krauser was after the Plagas, even without knowing for sure about Wesker. Leon had already had previous suspicions of who had really sent his once upon a time friend, but until speaking with Ada he hadn't known for sure. Krauser's part in Leon's report ended with his death and as far as anyone knew Wesker's objective had failed.

On the other hand everything to do with Ada had been left out completely, and Leon felt a terrible ripping guilt -running him through the chest like molten metal- at the fact that Jill and Chris trusted him so much and he could lie so easily. He didn't want to deceive anyone, but some important and vital part of him didn't want to betray Ada, not after what she'd done for him in the past. But she was still with the enemy and he lied for her, that's what was so messed up about the whole thing.

He hated himself for this, she had been working for Wesker the entire time and now that murderer was in possession of the Plagas. If this was discovered anyone who knew would just guess that he'd obtained it another way –the man had his resources– no one could blame Leon for that. Although if Ada's involvement in his mission ever came to light, things would be different.

"I'll find out what I can,' he said finally. 'I've already got a 7am flight out of New York so it wont be long before I get some answers."

Chris shook his head repeatedly. "I still wish you'd take someone with you."

Leon sighed. "I'll be fine. I don't even know if any back up will be needed."

"No," Jill said. "You don't know, and that's the point."

While misleading them forced the continuation of that painful guilt, he knew that if they tagged along Ada might be caught and there would be nothing he could do about it. _What a screwed up shit storm you've got yourself into Kennedy. _

Leon finally stood up, looking from Chris to Jill. "I appreciate everything, believe me I do. I'll have help if I need it, but right now I'd be a lot quicker in finding this guy on my own," a strong determination was taking hold even now. "I'll admit I was off my game before, but now things are different. My head's clear and that bastard's going down."

Chris clearly still didn't like any of this, but finally and very reluctantly, he relented. "I hope you know what your doing, I really do."

Chris gave up on trying to convince the younger man; once the agent was ready to go he called him a cab. Leon wanted to head off and get ready before the flight, and he didn't want to waste any time.

When his ride arrived he said his goodbyes and exited the front door, looking out into the street where the cab sat in wait. Chris remained inside but as the agent moved up the front path Jill caught him halfway, touching his arm. He turned back to her, seeing her attractive face aglow from the illuminatiion of the streetlights, her eyes filled with an awareness that worried him.

"What is it Jill?"

"I know your not telling us everything."

Whilst Leon saw no judgment in her eyes -only concern like before- he had no idea how to respond to her statement. "Jill- "

"You don't have to say anything," she explained. "But I think something _is_ going on here, something your keeping to yourself. But I know you, we all do. We know you're a good man, and whatever it is you feel you have to do must be important to you. Just be careful out there, and come back in one piece," Jill smiled. "I don't have many friends left, and I don't want to loose any more."

"Neither do I." Leon replied, feeling nothing but respect for Jill Valentine as she rapped her arms around him in a farewell hug.

* * *

It was still dark outside as the morning progressed. Anything that would have been visible from above was now completely out of sight as a grey-blue smothered the sky. The plane had reached its maximum altitude by now, pushing over the dim groupings of cloud.

The agent's eyes grew heavier by the second as he sat in his (all too comfy) window seat. His body and mind had taken a hammering and until now sleep had been the last thing on his list of priorities. The events of the past few hours had been exhausting to say the least, and now he was feeling the full effects.

Leon's eyelids were pushing down on him as if being made of led; his concentration had taken a nosedive into shit as soon as he boarded his flight. Thankfully the seat next to him was empty; the last thing he needed was to be sat next to some motor mouth (probably going on about how he or she hated flying) while he was trying to get some shuteye. Not that Leon wanted to be rude; but he had too much going on in his head already without dealing with the small-talkers as well.

The Boeing was moving further and further away from the states; and once again he was off to Europe. _I can't seem to get away from the place. Maybe I'll retire there_, Leon thought. It was almost eight o'clock in the morning, which meant he would probably touch down some time between two and three in the afternoon.

In truth he actually felt a lot better; he guessed it might have been those last few words between him and Jill. She knew something was up but she didn't pry, but that didn't mean she didn't care. She trusted him. It was as if some colossal weight had been lifted from his mind, and now he could place all his energy and skill into the task at hand.

He'd never been to Nantes before –somewhere in the west of France– and in truth he didn't think he'd ever have a reason to go there. Although Nantes wasn't the final stop. Wilforn Island was the true destination. 'Patrick's house of pain' wasn't all that hard to figure out. France. Patrick. Patrick Wilforn: the wealthy recluse. Wilforn Island. How and why didn't matter. Leon just hoped that he got there in time.

Leon had told himself (and was still telling himself) the obvious things as he got ready for his short notice trip, that it was Phantom he was chasing, that the man was dangerous and had to be taken down before he weaved his messed up bloodbath ways someplace else. Was that really the reason? It should have been, but he knew the truth. Of course he wanted to bring the man to justice; he _had_ killed a lot of people only a few hours ago, and he'd done it all without the slightest hint of remorse.

But this wasn't what had set Leon off on this crazy-ass chase across the Atlantic, not primarily anyway. There was no righteous sense of duty driving him forward this time, no threat to national security reinforcing his resolve. This was all about her. _Kennedy, congratulations! You've just won the award for 'Biggest Pussy-whipped Douche-bag In The World' how do you feel?_

"Like the cow that's just been told 'Its burger time!' "

"Excuse me?"

He looked up with a slight start; standing in the centre of the cabin was one of the stewardesses, pushing a small car. She'd stopped moving and was staring down at him. "Pardon?" he said.

"Sorry," she responded, her cheeks flushing rosily. "I thought you wanted something."

His nose caught the seductive aroma of (maybe a chicken dinner?) coming from the cart, though he didn't feel all that hungry. "No, Sorry," he replied. "Just thinking out loud."

"Oh," the woman (tall, blonde, and quite nice to look at) seemed almost disappointed. "Are you sure I can't get you anything sir?"

"Maybe just a glass of water for now." Leon replied, having to hold back a smile as he jokingly thought of asking for a martini. He was never much of a drinker, not to mention the fact that he didn't drive an Aston Martin.

He watched for a moment as she gave him a warm and possibly overly friendly smile before going on her way. _Sorry ma'am but I have a condition that addicts me to shady brunettes. Nothing personal.  
_

He wasn't sure if he'd still be conscious when the enthusiastic young lady returned. In complete honesty he needed sleep, or catching up with Ada before Phantom did would be impossible. Although it might still be impossible: Phantom had known right from the get-go where she was headed, which meant Leon would have to haul ass as soon as the plane landed.

Hunnigan hadn't been optimistic about the situation when Leon had contacted her, and had advised against a pursuit at first, especially alone. But then he'd dropped in the magic words; the name of the man who had sent the killer. That was all it took. Hunnigan knew as well as anyone that this could be their chance - to track down Albert Wesker and put an end to his activities for good.

No one within any government agency or the BSAA had any knowledge of his whereabouts, not since his reappearance on Rockfort Island six years ago. Since then he'd stayed off the grid, working in the shadows. Now could be their golden opportunity to draw him out.

This had been the only thing in Leon's arsenal that had allowed him to head off by himself. However anyone with half a lick of sense would know that if Phantom had told him where he was going then this was most definitely a trap. A team was already being assembled and would be ready the moment Leon confirmed a sighting of either Phantom or Wesker, but the agent didn't think that Phantom be easy to sneak up on. The man was like a ghost, and would probably only show himself when he was ready to strike.

If all went well then reinforcements wouldn't be needed. Not that Leon wouldn't like some back up (several guns were always better than just one, and safer) but if anyone else got within ten feet of Ada Wong there would be more trouble than even Leon could clean up. And he'd be thrown in a dark hole for the rest of his life. _No more Friday steak for me._

Thinking about all of this again was sapping the last of his brainpower, he couldn't fight his assaulted head from falling into oblivion anymore; his eyes closed, apparently planning on staying that way until landing, which was fine by him. All he could think about before drifting off was reaching the woman in red, the woman who appeared more and more to be Leon's El Derado. Elusive. Mythic. Beautiful. And on top of that, far, far too complicated.

The stewardess came by moments later with his drink, only to find him sleeping deeply. She looked at the face of the handsome young man for a few seconds before shaking her head with another smile, and then continued with her work, a slightly woeful sigh escaping her lips.

"Just my luck."

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_Well thats it for now. I'll have a new chapter up as soon as possible. Comment and let me know what you think. Bye for now._


	8. Chapter 8

_Hi everyone! Finally got another chapter out. Sorry for the long wait, I know the gap between chapters is getting longer but I'm doing the best I can. Hope you guys like it. Again, I do not own Resident Evil or its characters, those are the property of _Capcom.

* * *

**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter Eight**

Ada's legs went into action before anything else, twisting on the spot as she heard it: a deep guttural roar calling out into the evening, demonic and screaming for blood. Raising her sidearm between gloved hands, she shifted the weapon off in the direction of the sound. She didn't know what it was; the owner of the savage cry remained out of sight, concealed by towering trees, making up a shrouding of thick forest. Although the mere fact that the creature sounded a little too close was disturbing enough, enough for her to get moving again. She'd only just arrived, and in no way wanted anything sidetracking her. Not now, now when she was finally there.

Her watch revealed that it was almost five thirty in the evening; the day was gradually crawling into twilight, and a gloomy grey clouded the sky, degrading the detail of the topography around her. Ada would have to pick up the pace if she wanted to reach the Wilforn estate before nightfall. She knew that it wouldn't long before the island was caught in the tight embrace of darkness.

Ignoring whatever had made that sound – which at this point wasn't an immediate threat – Ada continued through the dimming groups of hulking trees. Her modified Springfield out and ready; she wasn't nearly stupid enough to holster her weapon at this stage, as threats could make themselves known at anytime. Aside from whatever it was she'd just heard, her senses picked up nothing else, not yet at least; so far, so good. Her usually red attire had been left aside this time; considering this was (hopefully) to be her final mission for The Organisation, she had chosen a different wardrobe. All black; boots with fitting bottoms, and a light tactical vest, and a small T-shirt beneath. Light gear in all, but she needed speed as much as she did protection, and she'd always preferred an outfit that offered the full freedom of movement.

Ada couldn't quite pick the word for the sensation that swam within her. Maybe it was because she'd never dreamt this day would come, that was possible. A lot of hard work and broken hearts (some she pained over, some she didn't) and it all still seemed dreamlike that she would finally make an end of all of this, that her dreams – or dream – would now be realised. But excited (if that's what she was feeling) couldn't disturb her work; this was still a job and one way or another it had to be completed. A single failure now and her goal would die, along with her. She'd received all the intel that she would need in achieving her objective; there were maybe a couple of holes in her employers intelligence but none of those included what guarded the island's surface.

The Organisation had given her a run down on the B.O.W's roaming on the island; the creature's numbers were maybe by the dozens, but this was no issue for her; the dead certainty was that she'd been through worse in her lifetime. It was what lay below ground that was the big mystery. She'd heard rumours of course, and she wasn't the only one, but nothing that the people who signed her checks could or would confirm. They were as in the dark as she was, but the item she'd been sent for; apparently that was no secret at all, at least not to The Organisation.

She continued stepping lightly between the trees, keeping her eyes peeled for anything that would pose a danger. Autumn hadn't faded away just yet, as the ground was paved with leaves; deceased and brown, crunching gently under Ada's heels, with a slight wind ripping more from their tree-ward homes, sending them down to join their fallen friends. Some forty metres ahead she expected to see a clearing – some unknown structure that the satellite photos had displayed, and then beyond that – maybe two hundred metres north would be the old Wilforn estate. A straight line; one that wouldn't take very long to cross, as long as nothing grizzly decided to rear its snapping and infectious head.

Ada was as focused as she was ever going to be; it had taken some time after leaving Leon's apartment for her to yank the image of his judgmental and frowning face from her head. Only the knowledge that her work was near completion eased that guilt. But why? Why should Leon make her feel guilty? He was the only one that could do this, as if he had a natural talent for bringing to the forefront what she already knew: that her actions were driven by selfish need, and truth be told, they were. She understood this better than anyone, but it would never stop her. She'd made a promise to herself a long time ago that nothing would get in her way. But Leon _had_ gotten in her way, and some part of Ada was grateful he did.

Her movement was abruptly cancelled by the sound of gunshots. Her body tensed as she turned swiftly back towards the south side of the island; hearing a series of repeated pops, coming from that direction which were closely followed by the same hellish roar she'd heard a few moments ago. But the gun sounds? _There shouldn't be any human activity on this side of the island_, she thought. And the possibility that her assassin had come to the island to find her was all too strong.

Ada felt a grinding aggravation peeling away inside; knowing very well that this couldn't be left unchecked. If this unseen nuisance survived whatever he'd gotten himself into then he'd be at her back if she didn't take care of things here and now. _Wesker. You're not going to get the drop on me_. It took only a split second for her to make up her mind; she would reach the Wilforn estate, but not before she took care of this threat for good.

* * *

Leon welcomed the cold touch of seawater, lightly tapping his face. He hadn't slept since the plane, although he'd been in slumber-land for almost the entire flight so while he wasn't all that tiered, the spray of water from the boat's movements helped to snap him to attention even more. It acted like a reminder, that this wasn't a site seeing trip, as the ominous dark shape of Wilforn Island grew larger by the second. The domain of the unknown, sprawled out before him.

He found that he had to fight away the deepening well of anticipation at what might be coming his way. Instead he thought about how guiltily funny it would have been to see the face of the speedboat owner – the speedboat that Leon was now using to maximum effect – when he saw that his beloved means to the ocean had been commandeered without any shred of consent. He wasn't particularly proud of the theft, but he'd been in too much of a hurry to care at the time. He would simply bring it back when he was done, and in any case the Island was off limits; since it was privately owned, it meant that any trespasser's would likely face treatment that just wasn't worth the hassle. Except if Leon were to be arrested, his people could probably get him out of such a pickle without much effort.

He had geared up lightly, but not too lightly; while he wanted firepower he also wanted to be able to move quickly whenever he needed to, and carrying a huge arsenal would hinder him in the long run. Leon was confident that he had everything he'd need. Aside from his usual mission sidearms – his modified handgun and back up Glock 17 – he was also now packing a Heckler & Koch sub-machinegun, on a strap and sitting over his shoulder. His tactical belt held a few surprises also; all sent his way by Hunnigan and had been waiting for him the moment he arrived in the city. It had been during his brief talk with Hunnigan, after leaving the airport, when she'd informed him of something that had forced his mission into an overdrive of urgency. The team – who were supposed to back him up in the event that he located either Phantom or Wesker – were two hours out from Nantes, and once they arrived they would simply be awaiting conformation of Leon's findings. He'd have to rap up his business on the island, and he would have to be quick about it.

Leon hadn't told Hunnigan about what Phantom had said regarding Patrick Wilforn; but a story could easily be fabricated for his visit to the island. Hunnigan would no doubt try to contact him at some point for an update, so Leon would have to make sure he was incapable to answering any calls for a while. It wouldn't be hard to make up a story; this wasn't the first time he'd been in a dangerous situation, and sometimes in the event of trouble, communication got cut. He was an honest person by nature, so his constant lies didn't fill him with a great deal of pride. None of it made sense, but then again, it didn't really have to. He would do what he had to do and that was the end of it.

As he pushed the boat to it's top speed, looking ahead to his destination, Leon went over what he knew about the man living on the island. It wasn't much, but from what he understood, Patrick Wilforn had once been the owner of Validus Pharmaceuticals; a small but once profitable company that eventually went under during the early nineties. Despite the ownership of this long lost corporation, Wilforn had been surprising wealthy otherwise. The details of his finances away from Validus were a little blurry, but in the course of his life, the man happened to take possession of the unused island that Leon was now heading toward. _Name's it after himself? Narcissist much_. Leon would have to tread carefully; it was completely possible that Ada and this reclusive man had nothing to do with each other, but if that was the case then why was she headed there?_ It doesn't make sense_, he thought. _If Wesker wants her dead then she can't be working for him anymore. So why would she come here?_ Leon hadn't given this much thought at first – his need to reach Ada had overshadowed most of the details – but now he wondered: what was really happening on the island?

He'd been stuck hip deep in all of this viral madness and back stabbing for too long, and he knew that things were not always what they appeared to be. Everyone had something to hide, so maybe Wilforn did too. And the fact that Phantom – or Wesker more specifically, as the location Leon was being drawn to was more than likely his idea – had picked that island created more questions. Ada heading for the island, Wesker wanting both of them dead: there was a design in this that he couldn't see yet, but something told him that before the coming fight was over, things would be made abundantly clear.

Leon could now see tangles of thick forest covering the island's south side; no structures were visible at present, though from what he now knew Wilforn's estate was located in the island's centre. He wasn't sure whether he'd have to head in that direction; it would have been easier if he knew what Ada was up to this time. He'd have to scour every inch of the island if he even had a chance of finding her before Phantom did.

In the next few minutes he drew in, moving the boat toward a rocky patch on the island shores. He hadn't realised how big the place looked until he was almost right on top of it; it was probably near the size of Saddler's island. _Just make a lot of noise Ada, and I'll follow the gunshots. _He was now less than five metres away, slowing the boat down to an almost non-existent crawl, and a few seconds later he cut the engine. He had meant to double-check his gear at this point, and that was when he felt something shake the boat from beneath.

His eyes darted to the water when a vibration went through his feet, and his thoughts snatched out for an answer; he was positive he hadn't hit anything. It was the opposite; something had hit him, and before he had time to think any further on the matter, the boat was flung into the air. He gasped as his body was thrown up, surrounded and enveloped in the saltwater eruption below. He flew weightlessly, the world becoming an unrevealing blur as he plummeted toward the rocky shore; all thought and deduction escaping his brain as the offensive ground drew closer and closer. But – fortunately enough for him – as he came down, he was able to gain some control and beat back the sudden panic of the attack, if that's what had happened. He landed into a roll on the sharp rocks, feeling the butt his sub machinegun dig harshly into his back; grunting briefly from the sensation, he quickly came onto his feet, feeling grateful that he was wearing a jacket, as his arms would have been scraped to shreds on the rocks if he hadn't.

Coming to his senses immediately, he released his handgun from its hip holster and steered the weapon toward the water. He saw nothing, except of course for the boat; capsized and smashed almost in half, it's scummy sea-bitten belly was dented and crushed as it rocked in the violent waves that hadn't yet calmed themselves. He could only imagine what had done this; it was highly doubtful that a jutting rock had been the culprit.

Something _had_ just attacked the boat. His heart had only just reduced its speed when he saw it: a head, a large dark shape emerging a few metres out. And then the water exploded, millions of white dots showering the air and splashing the rocks as the sudden roar of the creature hammered down on Leon's ears with a crushing fury. He staggered backwards a little at the sight of the beast, part of it's eel-smooth body becoming visible. And as the sea giant rose up he noticed that it had no eyes, and no other real facial features; it was simply a blank glistening ball of nothing, except for a giant – and impossibly wide – mouth full of teeth.

_Like I need this crap all over again_, he thought. _But at least I'm not trapped on a lake this time._

Leon had been certain – for at least five rather optimistic seconds – that the creature was entirely sea dwelling, and wouldn't pose any threat to him now that he was on dry land. His hopes fell dead in the dust when the monster raised its great mass (almost salamander-like, he thought) upwards, pulling itself onto the rocky shores with terrifying swiftness. He would have fired his gun, but he guessed that handgun rounds would only piss it off (eyes would have been the best things to shoot with a handgun, and that particular weakness didn't exist) and reaching for his sub would take too long, as the creature was only two seconds away from encasing his body within the jaws of certain death. He decided in that seemingly ageless instant, that turning toward the forest and running as fast as he possibly could was the most promising course of action – until he could think of something else at least – and so he did exactly that. _Great, just great_, he thought. _Lose my ride home – my stolen ride, I mean – and now a giant mouth with legs is chasing me; yep, just another day._

* * *

Ada stopped when she heard the same roar again, only this time it sounded a lot closer than before. She felt a minor unease at the sound, unaware that she was grinding her teeth, but was painfully awake to the fact that someone was coming her way, and leading the viral monster right into her path. She stood behind one of the many trees, searching for any sign of this person. If the beast was hot on his heels she was inclined to assess the situation before acting on anything: if it looked as if the creature would take its prey, then Ada would simply turn around and continue her mission. But no one and nothing was visible as of yet and her impatience was beginning to swell, squeezing her senses like the hand that held her gun.

The roar went on and rang in Ada's ears with painful precision, whatever was making the sound must have been big, she thought. And as the horrifying rage of the cries continued, the figure of a man came into view; she couldn't make out any real detail just yet, but whoever it was, was running like the wind. Ada stepped further behind the concealment of the tree, intending to wait for the man to pass before taking him down, and more importantly, discovering what he might have known about her mission.

Ada hadn't seen any sign of the creature; its screams of hunger had temporarily ceased into nothingness, and the man's running steps were drawing closer by the second, the sound of snapping twigs and leaves rang heavier than expected. Switching her hand to the gun's barrel, Ada planned to on applying a non-lethal blow before asking any questions. She wouldn't have to wait long; at least she didn't think so, considering the speed of the man's frightful gallop. Whoever he was, he was fast. _Somebody should have become a champion sprinter_, she thought. _It would have saved you a lot of grief, whoever you are._

She knew the moment he was close enough, almost enough for her to hear his thumping heart, to feel the adrenaline pulsing through him. Ada didn't waste a second; gripping the gun correctly and swinging out from her hiding place, aiming for the man's unsuspecting head. She would come to realise how she'd been wrong about this person's lack of awareness, because he'd been alert to everything the entire time. He passed the tree as she swung, and in what seemed like a microsecond, he ducked from the blow with a speed and grace that she had to respect no matter what the ordeal. He turned on her with the same speed, aiming his handgun directly between her raised eyebrows. Fortunately for her, she'd adjusted herself with that same blurring madness of movement, pointing her Springfield back at him. But her killing instinct wavered at that moment, when she saw the brilliant blue of the man's eyes, and every other feature that had feverishly roamed her mind in the past couple of weeks.

"Leon!" she said, feeling her eyes widen.

She didn't understand this; why had Leon come here? Everything fell royally onto its head the moment she saw who he was, seeing the agent standing in front of her with his gun raised. The walls of her thoughts came down at this moment, as she tried to force an answer to this mystery. She couldn't think of a single reason why Leon would be on the island. If there was a top ten list of things in the world that made the least sense, this would be right at number one.

"Ada– "

"Leon," her voice caught in her throat for a moment. "What are you doing here?"

Ada thought that she was imagining the entire scene, seeing the man – who had called her a collaborator with genocide not long ago – lower his weapon. A second later she lowered her own. She didn't believe that her eyes would ever be greeted with his image again, not after their conversation in his apartment. But here he was, in the flesh and standing before her. _What the hell is going on?_ This ridiculous and unexpected development forced her to wonder about what had happened back at his apartment after she had left. How would Leon have known she'd be here? From the look on his face, she knew for certain that he'd been expecting to see her, but why?

"Well," Leon replied. "Its kind of long story."

Ada – despite herself – became annoyed by the response. As much as his presence pleased her on some level, it also made things ten times worse. "So make it short. How did you find me?"

A sting of hurt flashed in the man's eyes, but it had left so quickly it was as if it had never been there. "When you warned me about an assassin, you failed to mention that you've been targeted as well."

"What difference does it make?" she asked, trying to put her mind at ease as the casual mask fell over her. "You're still breathing, aren't you?"

"Just about."

"So how did you know I was here? And more importantly, why are _you_ here?"

"The assassin told me where to look," Leon replied. "He said he was coming for you next."

Ada had always been the kind of person who could see the good in any situation; and Leon's visit to the island aside, she thought it fortunate that the assassin was already out of the picture. She wouldn't have to watch out for Wesker, at least for a while. It was long enough for her to carry out her mission. All she had to do was get away from Leon somehow, and then things could proceed as planned. _Talk about déjà vu_, she thought.

"Well I appreciate you taking care of that problem for me, handsome."

"Ada," Leon paused; his face betraying an awkwardness that she didn't like. "He isn't dead."

Ada thought she'd misheard him at first, but bad hearing was something she had never had to worry about before; if the assassin wasn't dead then how was Leon alive? "Well that's unfortunate. Have you gone soft in the past couple of weeks?"

"Soft?" Leon's stare had become an intense one, steely yet composed. "This wasn't your everyday killer."

"So he got away?"

"I guess that's one way of putting it," The agent replied. "And I think he's an old friend of yours; he seemed to know you. And I've got to say, you've got some pretty messed up pals, Ada."

His response confused her a little, making her ponder the identity of Wesker's assassin. "What did this man look li– '

Leon had been about to speak when something stopped him, but then it also forced Ada's attention away from the encounter, drawing her eyes in the direction that Leon had just emerged from. Trees – as large and old as the earth they lived in – began to collapse, tearing down, their roots ripping clumps of dirt from the forest floor, shooting dark brown vapour-like clouds upwards as a giant shape emerged among them. Ada couldn't see the whole of the beast yet, but she knew it to be the thing that roared in furious hunger, and now it was coming for both of them. Her day had gone from urgently important, to unbelievably complicated in all of five minutes, and Ada was not pleased with any of it.

"Ok," Leon said, as he holstered his sidearm, dragging the Mp5 she had previously noticed from over his shoulder and taking aim. "We'll finish the conversation after this guy's toast. How's that sound?"

Ada raised an eyebrow at the agent's casual tone, before raising her weapon once more. "That would be splendid."

* * *

_Ok, I'd love to know what you guys think of this. Wasn't completely sure about a couple of things but I think I've left people waiting long enough. And I promise that the wait for the next chapter wont be as long as this was. Bye for now!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Finally posted another chapter; I think the last one was posted in September so its been a while. Sorry for the wait and here it is. Hope you like it.__ Again, I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters._

* * *

**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter Nine**

There was a plan; Leon had been aware of this even as he was running from the blind amphibious freak that pursued him. But even as this grand design formed and solidified within his alert mind, he wondered – for just a moment – if he really knew what he was doing. Plans could backfire at the lousiest of times (it had happened to him in the past) but considering the insane twists and turns that his eventful life seemed to take, he was convinced of one thing: it was just crazy enough to actually work.

His lunatic idea was probably (no, without any doubt) easier said than done; the creature was closing the gap between them quickly as it constantly defied its own size, ripping through the forest without thought, driven only by the deep desire to chew Leon into mounds of shredded lifelessness. He hadn't expected any miracles when he had fled into the forest, but by shear fate here she was, the very person he was looking for; Ada Wong was now standing beside him, and strangely clad in black tactical attire. _No red dress this time_, he thought. _Shame; that was a good look_. Leon parked those thoughts before they went any further; they had rather large problems right now, and day dreaming about Ada's arousing wardrobe would very likely lead them both into an early grave.

Ada moved to his right side as she asked: "I trust you have a plan to counter this little crisis of ours?"

"You wont like it," he said. "I need you to keep Kermit busy for a moment?"

"Why Leon," she responded with mock gratitude. "You're too generous."

"So I'm told," he said, watching as the beast drew closer; it was now within forty feet of them. "Just make sure you piss it off and I'll do the rest."

Ada kept her gun aimed towards the approaching creature, but she nodded in understanding as her eyes kept their place. At seeing the confirmation Leon took off to the left, sprinting through the trees, hoping that his plan worked as the virally engineered abomination reacted to Ada, who had just opened fire.

He heard the gunshots; perhaps two seconds apart and he was satisfied with that. She was baiting the bastard nicely without wasting her ammo, which meant that all Leon had to do was set the rest into motion, but he had to be fast; if it didn't kill the thing then at least it would slow it down.

He turned back toward the way he'd just run from, seeing the monster going after Ada, who had just disappeared from view, drawing it further away from Leon. _And now the moment of truth_, he thought. He saw the one he wanted to use; the structure of the tree – if he could position the creature just right – would be effective enough. And as Leon jogged back toward that particular section of forest, he hoped to everything holy that Ada didn't die because of his creative insanity.

* * *

Ada acted without hesitation, firing off several well placed shots into the creature's large expressionless head, creating a small constellation of red dots on its slimy skin. The rounds didn't slow the thing's advance in any way, but Ada guessed that they wouldn't do a great deal except for annoying it even more than it already was. She wouldn't be able to kill it with a handgun; her only hope was that Leon's plan – whatever it may have been – would work the way he hoped. Fifteen feet of deathly thin air was all that stood between her and the gaping meat grinder that was the beast's mouth; that was when Ada decided it was time to run like the wind. A healthy amount of fear caused her to push her legs to full speed; she'd give Leon the time he needed to work his magic, but she just hoped that he didn't take too long.

As she ran she could hear the snapping of the creature's hungry jaws, almost feeling it's hot breath on the back of her neck, smelling the nose crushing remnants of its ocean diet. She didn't dare look behind her; the speed of the creature suggested that it was slowly gaining, and it would only be moments before it caught up with her. She had to do something before that happened. Taking down this most recent blight against nature was going to prove difficult indeed. _Why am I doing this_? She wondered, just before she picked up the repulsive odour of rotting fish again; it was right behind her and she knew she had maybe five seconds at best before she was dead.

Holding her sidearm in one hand, she quickly retrieved her grapple gun from her belt whilst hoping that this action didn't slow her down; a fine sheet of sweat had already risen from her warm skin as she saw the thing she needed. A few metres ahead sat a tree, bigger than the previous lot that the creature had sent tumbling to the forest floor; it was maybe her only hope at living through this encounter, and maybe it would give Leon the time he required to set his trap, a trap that would hopefully end the circumstances that she was now trapped by. Her hand rose up and pulled the trigger in one rapid motion; the grapple shot upward through the air with its thin steel cable whistling behind, and to Ada's good fortune caught one of the hulking top branches snugly. She clicked the switch to retract the wire and then she was lifted instantly; a brief gasp passed out of her when she heard the huge offensive snap of teeth from right beneath. She'd been lucky; if she had taken even a second longer her legs would be a distant memory, as would her mission. If she believed in god, she would have thanked him at that very moment with all her heart. If she did.

When she reached the top she scrambled fast onto the thick branch that held the end of her grapple, then yanking it free from the chewed wood it had imbedded itself in. She was in the process of retracting the cable fully when the impact came; Ada lost her balance and in a moment of blinding panic almost fell from her perch, her vision of the world shook violently around her, almost like that of a terrible earthquake. Using all her force she managed to stay straddled on the branch, her wide eyes shot down to see that the monster had collided with the hulking forest dweller, but could not bring the giant down; instead it bit through a huge chunk of its base, sending splinters and shards of snapped bark everywhere as it tried furiously to claim her. The tree shook horrifically from side to side, like a lamp post being struck by a speeding car, and it didn't take Ada very long to realise that if the beast continued with it's feverish assault then it would only be moments before the tall construction of nature fell. Considering the size of the tree, a fall from such a height might not kill her, but she'd be in no shape to continue on.

Ada quickly retracted her grapple cable and set the gun back into place. She was – for a brief moment – reminded of the crocodile in Raccoon City; the one infected with the T-Virus. She'd been in a tight spot back then, but Leon had come through for her and managed to kill the giant reptile. But her confidence in him was shaking when the beast rose onto it's back legs; it roared and chewed away as it used huge dagger sized claws protruding from its front feet to clasp onto the tree and keep its balance. Ada stared down into the snapping pit of its mouth, five feet beneath her dangling legs; for a moment she considered using one of her small remote grenades, but quickly shot the thought down; even if she were to drop the thing in the bastard's mouth the explosion could kill her as well, and jumping from such a height right after throwing it wouldn't do much to improve the day she was having; a broken back was not a price she was willing to pay for victory – at least not this early in the mission.

_Hurry up Leon! _

* * *

When Leon picked up the creature's trail of destruction he could see what was going on a few metres ahead; he could see it clearly enough as the evening began to move on, but knew he only had limited time to act before night fell over everything. He kept his fear at bay as he saw the small shape of Ada fighting to steady herself on one of the branches; he guessed she used that grapple he saw in Spain. _Handy_, he thought. But the image within his mind of Ada falling fatally into the monster's eager embrace brought his thoughts to a halt. He had already finished what he was doing so he had to act before it was too late; he couldn't fail her, not when he'd risked so much for her sake.

He quickly approached the rear of the beast as Ada let several rounds loose into its almost absent face, but it's massive size was pressing harder against the tree as it reached up for her and Leon knew it wouldn't be standing for much longer. The relentless thought of her falling was what made him move even faster. He could already see Ada pointing her grapple gun towards another tree in Leon's direction, in a desperate attempt to escape, though from what he could see as he got closer she was having difficulty taking aim and would no doubt miss her target. He would need to distract the monster for just a moment and then she could get away.

He pulled his handgun and fired four shots at the tail of the monster, sending small jets of blood spraying from the bullet wounds that – no surprise to him – were tiny on the creature's slick surface, and did nothing but make it angrier. But that was all he needed; the thing lowered itself into its regular position on the ground and turned towards Leon. At the same time Ada stood up straight, and even from where Leon stood he could see the expression of relief fall over her miniature features. But the base of the tree was in terrible shape and by the looks of it the thing could still collapse.

"Ada," he yelled. "Get off there now!"

He didn't wait to see her do so; she knew what to do, and she would now be out of harms way. The beast had now turned fully on Leon and began its frightful charge towards him. Leon was already running toward – what he preyed would be – the thing that would help him and Ada breath for a few more hours. He could hear the thing chasing him, could hear it's mammoth strides thundering into the ground; Leon had been told by people over the years that his running speed was absurd and someone even joked once that if he were to fall whilst going at full speed that he'd need a crash helmet to keep from having his brains scattered everywhere. He would have to question people's judgment later, because right now he didn't feel any swiftness, in fact things seemed to be moving in slow motion, and all he could think of for a split second was how he was going to be dinner for another lab cooked monstrosity.

_No, no, no, shut up Kennedy_, he cursed himself inwardly. _You know why you're here; the real monster hasn't shown his face yet.  
_

Leon's determination granted his legs even more force as he tore through the forest; within the next few moments he had reached his intended mark, with the huge beast – judging from the sounds of things, Leon didn't look back and wasn't planning to – maybe ten feet behind him. And then he pressed the detonator that had been in his left hand the entire time. The power of the explosion behind him almost knocked him clean off his feet as splinters of wood swarmed out from the mostly destroyed tree base that he had just passed. He regained his balance and continued moving, only now he afforded a glance behind him, and he couldn't resist a childish grin at the result.

The tall – but not too bulky – tree had been damaged enough to begin tipping in the direction of the passing creature that was completely unsuspecting of what was about to transpire. At first Leon thought it was crazy: the monster had ploughed through several trees in its hunt for human flesh, so how could a falling one do any real damage? Leon's reasoning was simple: a grown man could tip a refrigerator over with enough effort, but if one where to fall onto the guy's head, now that wouldn't be pleasant at all. Hopefully that theory would apply here. And then in the next couple of seconds it happened. The tree fell down, the centre of it's trunk slammed powerfully into the back of the monster's neck with a tremendous earth splitting crunch, bringing the thing's eyeless face hard into the ground and creating dusty hills of black dirt all around its head as it's attack was halted in it's tracks.

Leon let out a large breath as he stopped running, turning back to view his handy work; the creature wasn't dead, and to his instant surprise was moving. He couldn't believe it; despite the bleeding mess that it's broken neck had been reduced too, it was actually trying to drag itself towards him. It let out low painful growls, weakened but still relentless in its pursuit – desperate even. Leon didn't know how it had survived the damage that had been inflicted upon it, it seemed impossible; it's head hung limply from it's freshly made wound that still had a fallen tree glued to it, but still it somehow fought its own destruction and tried to reach him. _Why can't these virus sons of bitches just die easy like everything else_? He holstered his handgun, and brought his sub machinegun to bear once more. Despite wanting to save ammo, for someone a little more deserving of it, he didn't want to leave this hellish creation at his back; even injured it could still pose a threat.

He was just about to let loose a rain of bullets when Ada stepped up from behind him. "That won't be necessary Leon,"

"Why?"

She didn't answer, but when he saw her pull the pin from a small grenade he had no further questions on the matter. He watched as she bowled the grenade towards the monster's writhing head, and then they were both running for cover. During their flight Leon just managed to hear the blast, and the shower of blood and smoke it created before being knocked to the ground by Ada's smaller body as she dove into him.

The grenade had shaken the ground only briefly, and when the remains of the blast subsided and cleared Leon looked up, and his eyes widened to see Ada sitting atop him, literally straddling his stomach, which considering their predicament was – to him – slightly awkward.

As he stared up at her, he saw the slightest hint of a smile form on her lips as she asked: "How in the world did you bring that tree down, handsome?"

For a split second Leon wasn't thinking with any measure of clarity; being around Ada at any time had that effect on him, but the feel of her on top of him – for a moment – slapped a full handicap on his brain, and he found he had to fight it off quite forcefully. "Err… r- remote detonating mine," he finally managed to say.

"Well it certainly came in handy," she replied. "But that was a little too insane Leon, even for you."

"I guess so," he replied as he stared up at the angelic and cold-blooded beauty. "I was hoping to introduce it to Phantom but I only brought one… " Leon trailed off when he saw something in the spy's face that he'd never seen before, at least not on such a drastic level. It was shock. "Ada? Ada what's wrong?"

* * *

"This is Commander Stark,"

"Leonard," Daniel King spoke into his com-link; his tone was one of extremely good cheer at this moment, as if greeting a long time friend. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were vexed about something."

King thought he heard the man groan at the other end, which made him smile with some satisfaction. He was currently standing near a clearing on the island, his back resting against a tree as he listened out for more gun shots; so far no more had called out into the oncoming night, but he knew what he'd heard: two sets of gunfire. _They've hooked up already. Outstanding._

Stark then interrupted his thoughts. "So Wesker's got you in on this too?"

"Try not to sound too happy, Leonard; I may get misty eyed."

"So what's your part in all this?"

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that."

King knew that the unit commander wasn't in anyway pleased to hear from him; in fact King was certain that Commander Leonard Stark hated him and everything about him. Stark was the clean marine type: go in, get it done, kill who needs to be killed and do your job to the letter. It seemed that even some of Wesker's employees had a conscience – to an extent. Stark was a robot during mission times; he could never let loose even if he tried. _Oh, the things that make you smile. Funny how some things play out_, King thought. This call to Stark was already amusing the hell out of him.

"Wesker gave me all the details. And he did say someone would be moving in ahead of us, so I'm guessing that person would be you."

"I imagine you're overjoyed," King replied. "This operation is important to our mutual employer."

"Yeah, I guess it would be important; important enough to drag me into another job th– "

"You can feed your drinking addiction some other time, Leonard."

"Is that right, Phantom? I wasn't aware I had one."

"If you say so."

King wasn't completely sure, but he thought he heard a muffled 'Motherfucker!' seep into his ear, and he couldn't help his responding chuckle.

"So why am I talking to you and not Wesker?"

"He's finishing up with something. Have you and your team reached Wilforn's dock?"

"We're almost right on top of it. I'm assuming you have further instructions for us?"

King quickly explained what was required of Stark and his team; the entire time he listened keenly for any other sounds of struggle. He was guessing that Kennedy of Wong had surpassed whatever trouble they had been caught up in, and would hopefully survive a little longer. And on that note, King thought it was almost time for him to move on.

After King passed on Wesker's instructions Stark spoke again. "What about the B.O.W threat on the island? And also there's every possibility that we've been detected already; they must be monitoring the dock."

"Its not a concern," King replied. "There's nothing they do to stop us; and as far as the B.O.W's go, events have been set into motion that should keep them occupied."

"Right," Stark said, and King could hear a minor hint of scepticism. "I take it the specifics of that are on a need to know basis?"

"Absolutely," King said. "That may change, but I wouldn't count on it. You just concentrate on your part; there's no reason for you to worry your little head over anything else."

"Fine," Stark replied, muttering something else before continuing. "We'll complete the next phase and… await your… orders." And then he ceased communication.

King sighed. "Everyone's a cry baby,'

King was just about to start movng when he felt it; a deep red searing pain inside his head, a pain that could only be compared to having molten gold drop onto an unsuspecting head. Though despite this sudden discomfort, despite the tightness of his facial features that pulled and strained in response to this sensation, King never made a sound.

"Hmmm... that was sooner than usual."

Without another word, King produced a small syringe from a pouch on his belt. For a moment he felt a minor twinge of anger as he viewed the orange fluid within the glass cylindrical casing, but it was gone before it ever had the oppertunity to bite at him too harshly. _Everything has a price_, he thought. He then aimed the needle at his neck and injected its contents. And then it was done with; King put the syringe away and breathed a sigh that ended with a grin.

He was thinking that he should be heading off to complete the next phase of his involvement on he island; giving an amused shake of his head in memory of Stark's obvious hatred of him before taking off at a full run back into the trees. He was looking forward to this next part; he thought it even possible that it may be nearly as much fun as the climax. King had no intention of killing Ada in front of Leon; he had simply wanted to see how the agent reacted to such a statement. No, the opposite was true; he wanted to kill the government scrapper in front of Ada, and then maybe – just maybe – she would finally have some idea of what it truly means to be damned. Because in a way, that was the one thing that she and King had in common.

* * *

"Ada what's wrong?"

Leon watched with a strange unease as the brunette operative practically flung herself off of him in an almost frantic motion; backing several steps away from him, and the entire time she wore a face that could only be described as having seen a ghost. And that look, to Leon – especially on someone as emotionally fortified as Ada – was beyond unsettling.

As he rose to his feet, he didn't even bother to brush himself off; the environment was of no consequence, including the lifeless creature wearing a mangled mound of crispy and blackened meat and bone and brain that used to be it's head. Now all he saw was Ada, and the mask of shear disbelief written all over her. And it worried him more than anything, because he saw the change occur right after saying the name of the man sent to kill him.

"Ada?"

There was a long an uncomfortable silence clutching at everything; but after what seemed like forever Ada finally spoke. "You said Phantom?"

Leon nodded. "Yeah, that's what he called himself."

"About your height?" she asked; when Leon nodded in response she continued. "Dark hair? Grey eyes?"

"That's right," he said. "And he had an unhealthy obsession with knifes and explosives,"

For a moment Ada said nothing more, but to Leon she seemed calmer after apparently thinking something over. "Believe me, Leon," she said. "His obsessions go further than that, and none of them are very pleasant."

"So you _do_ know him?"

"I did," she replied, looking Leon dead in the eye. "He's dead."

Leon wasn't exactly sure how to take her last statement. "Ada, what do you mean he's dead? He seemed pretty lively to me."

"He died a year ago,"

"How do you know that?"

"Because I killed him."

He didn't speak right away; he just thought over what this new information could mean. But then it did answer one question; Phantom seemed hell bent on making Leon and Ada's lives worse, and whatever passed between them must have triggered this hatred that the lunatic had for Ada. But on the other hand – and this was the really twisted part – Leon wasn't sure if Phantom needed to hate anyone to inflict harm on them.

"Well clearly you didn't kill him," Leon finally said. "Obviously he's been alive since… whatever happened between you."

"Trust me," she said. "You weren't there; I witnessed the whole thing. He was dead; no one could make an arguement against that."

"So what happened?"

"Like I said," Ada replied, now her control seemed back in place. "I killed him; that's all you need to know."

Once again Leon was aggravated by her apparent inability to share information, especially information that he considered to be vastly important. He was certain that this must have shown on his face when Ada spoke again.

"Did you follow him here to kill him?" Ada asked.

"If I have to,"

"You should tread carefully Leon," she explained in a serious tone. "If he told you where I am then that means he – or rather Wesker – wanted you here."

"I kind of figured that part out on my own," Leon said.

Ada continued. "And it also means that he's probably on the island already. He's dangerous, Leon."

"You said you killed him, so he's not invincible."

"I got lucky."

"Then I'll get lucky too," Leon said, his voice coated on a solid layer of determination. "He blew up half of my apartment Ada, and killed a lot of people in the process. I'm not leaving until he's out of commission."

He watched, as Ada seemed to ponder this information; her brow contorting only slightly, but it was enough for Leon to plainly see some confusion within her faint expression. He got the feeling that she still didn't completely believe what she was hearing. Night was creeping up on them, and Leon was seeing a shift in Ada's body; it wasn't major but the sight of her eyes casting quick glances at the darkening sky was enough for him to know that she wanted to get moving.

"If it's really him," Ada said. "And if he's really on the island, then he'll be coming after both of us. And Wesker wont be far behind."

"So what do you want to do?" Leon asked.

* * *

Ada had to ditch Leon, and soon. The agent's reasons for being on the island had nothing to do with her assignment; he was there for Phantom, and she wasn't. She would be far better off getting away from him and continuing with what she was doing. Now that they had killed the creature that Leon had dropped on her head she was more than happy for them to part ways.

But this news about King had filled a pool of anxiety that she was far from comfortable with, and didn't want any part of. _How could he possibly still be alive?_ She thought. She remembered their final encounter as if it had happened only a day ago. She had been lucky in surviving; there was never a truer word. But how could Daniel King have possibly lived? If it really was him, if the bloodthirsty bastard was still alive and polluting everything he touched with his deathly hands, then she would have to be on full alert and then some.

It was clear to her now that completing her mission would be more difficult than she had originally thought. She was no fool; it was obvious that Wesker wasn't just chasing her – for the double-crossing she did during the Plagas retrieval. He was up to something; she didn't want to guess what that might be just yet, but time was of the essence and she couldn't stand still any longer. Now that Wesker's all seeing eye was cast on the island she would have to double time her efforts and reach her destination within the hour.

"You wont find Phantom, at least until he wants to be found." Ada then turned from him and started walking in the direction of the Wilforn estate.

"Then I'll be ready for him," Leon called to her, and Ada could already hear the jogging beats of his feet as he caught up with her.

Ada didn't bother to look back, although her legs shifted to a slightly swifter pace. Within an instant Leon was walking beside her, and although she wasn't looking at him her peripheral caught his stare. It came as kind of a surprise when she suddenly realised why he was really there; Ada cursed herself for not coming to this information sooner, but she had seen from the agent's expression that he had be expecting to see her. Leon had been looking for her; that's what she thought now. _Did he come here because he was concerned for me? What did Phantom say about me, I wonder? _

Leon said. "Do you have any idea where Phantom might be?"

"Patrick Wilforn's estate is in the island interior," she replied. "It's possible that he'll be in that area."

"So I'm assuming that your assignment has something to do with Wilforn then," Ada shot Leon a warning look, making the agent raise his hands. "Hey, I'm not here to get in your way. I just want to know if Wilforn's hiding anything; he's been laying low on this island for years after all."

Ada didn't like this, but now it seemed that Leon would be heading in the same direction as her, at least until she reached the estate. She would probably have more luck losing him once they arrived, which was exactly what she was going to do. She couldn't let him get in her way, she simply couldn't. And as far as Daniel King went, she wouldn't have to worry about Leon; King would be coming after Ada first, which was another good reason to ditch the agent as soon as possible. If she could leave him on the way to the estate then she would, but that task would be a difficult one to achieve considering that nothing else since the huge B.O.W encounter had disrupted Leon's movements.

_Why didn't I just leave him when the thing attacked?_ She thought; it would have made things far simpler in the end.

"I assume you know about Validus?" she said.

"Wilforn's company,"

Ada nodded. "The one that met its end years ago; well lets just say that its collapse wasn't exactly what it appeared to be."

Leon frowned. "Well give me a different version then."

"Wilforn's company didn't die through finacial troubles," she explained. "He just didn't have the kind of genius on his payroll that Umbrella did."

"Umbrella," Leon said. "What does he have to do with them?"

"What do you think he's been up to all this time?"

Realisation flashed over the agent's features as they continued onward. "So he's been working with them?"

"Right first time handsome; Wilforn had been working on exceedingly illegal projects of his own, but he didn't have the right talent on his staff to make much of a impact back then, and all the best people in the field of viral weaponry and genetic research were in Umbrella's merry little family. The fat cats in Umbrella saw that he had talent and vision and chose to salvage him. After that he shut Validus down and took on the role of the recluse within a facility right on this very island. Umbrella had everything he needed to continue his research; he's been working for them in secret ever since that day. "

Ada could see that Leon wasn't all that surprised to hear this information; but she could feel an oncoming unease when his eyes narrowed at her. "So you're here to retrieve something else; a virus? A weapon of some kind?"

"Now Leon," Ada said. "You know very well that I'm not going to tell you anything relating to my work."

"Phantom said that Wesker wants you dead as much as he does me; but last I heard you were working for him."

Ada could have shot herself for being so stupid; how could she let her emotions claim so much of her work. She was a professional – always had been – and here she was yet again, allowing Leon to wedge himself between her heart and her head. Did the agent practise these little interventions of his? Or did he have a top of the line talent for making her head spin into a stormy wasteland where her indecision could eat her alive. This had already happened in Raccoon City. In Spain she had been successful in distancing herself from Leon and her feelings, but now it appeared that she was stuck with him, for the next hour at least. But that was bad enough.

Despite her current situation, she couldn't help herself. "Have you lost your mind, Leon?"

She saw Leon cock his head sideways with a sharp glance. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Wesker wants you here because he knows I'm here. Don't you understand? He wants us together so he can eliminate us both at the same time."

Ada didn't need to be a genius to know what the game plan was, and only an idiot would need these facts spelled out for them. Wesker had planned the entire thing; he wanted this island to be their tomb: two enemies, gone for good. She knew very well why he wanted her dead, and she had a fairly decent idea of why he wanted to kill Leon. But now she knew that King was waiting somewhere on Wilforn Island, hiding in the shadows until he was ready to make his move. Whatever she was going to do she had to be quick about it, if she failed here she might as well give up on everything.

"It doesn't matter," Leon replied. "I have to stop Phantom before he does anymore damage. Besides, he's going to pay for killing those people in the apartment."

"I wont let my mission be jeopardised by your vendetta, Leon."

"I don't care what you do," Leon almost snapped, but Ada didn't think he truly meant those words. "My government doesn't even know I'm on this island anyway, so for the moment you've got nothing to worry about."

Ada almost couldn't believe what she'd heard; she never imagined Leon as the rogue agent type. The thought almost amused her – it was so ridiculous. "I don't think your people will be thrilled to know that you're running around on your own like this."

"Oh they knew I was heading for France, they just don't know I'm on this island," he explained, and Ada saw him smile briefly. "And anyway; playing dumb will be a walk in the park, after all it wouldn't be the first time."

_It wouldn't be the first time? _She thought._ What does he mean by that?_

Normally Ada wouldn't have thought about this, but there was something very specific about that way he had said it. Had he lied to his employers before? She didn't think that there was any point in asking him about what he meant; even if he told her it wouldn't make much difference; she still had to leave him, whether she wanted to or not.

"Looks like we're going to get wet," Leon said, looking upward to have the deepening sky greet his skin with specks of dampness.

Ada felt it too, tapping at her skin lightly; it was going to get heavier before the end. "Seems that way."

They both stopped moving when they were met with something else; their ears aching horribly when a high-pitched whistle rang out, ceasing all other thoughts. Ada's eyes darted about the area, and she saw Leon checking their surroundings also, but there was no sign of electronic equipment nearby, and if it was near them then it was well hidden. Although as the sharp siren went on Ada thought it was coming from further away, maybe in the direction they were heading?

"What the hell is that?" Leon said.

Ada didn't answer; she simply swept wet strands of hair from her forehead as the rain picked up. She was now certain that the sound was coming from Wilforn's house, or somewhere in that area. She didn't like this at all. Wilforn must have known they were there; they must have been detected during the conflict with the B.O.W. This wasn't good; Ada had thought that she could have at least made it to the estate before anyone noticed her, but her interaction with Leon had slowed her down.

_Damn you Ada! How could you have been so stupid?_

The sound went on for a minute or two, and then abruptly stopped, leaving Ada to wonder what was going to happen next; though dwelling on 'maybe's' and 'what if's' wouldn't help her in any way. They both had things to do and they had to get on with it. Yes, Ada knew it was possible that some kind of defence on the island had just been triggered, but so far no threats had entered her field of vision. For now she was ok, they both were.

"I think we'd better move," Leon said as he continued on.

Ada nodded and began to catch up with him, and then fives seconds on they were met with something else. Another sound made itself known; only this one was completely different, and far more menacing. Ada saw Leon retrieve his handgun, an action that she mimicked with no encouragement. She scanned the area once again as countless primal howls cried out into the darkening evening. They sounded almost wolf-like, but far more fierce; they suggested a size that was large and powerful, hungry and vicious and calling for blood. The vile sounds – coming from… whatever these creatures were – grew in number, until it appeared that they were coming from all over the island.

The threats within the island were now making themselves known, and when Leon looked back at Ada, she knew that he could see that aggravation on her face; she'd tried to subdue it in time, but as his eyes scanned hers, she knew that her efforts had failed.

"You can run off and do whatever it is you've come to do as soon as we reach the estate," he told her. "But right now I think we've got a much better chance of reaching that place if we work together. I wont interfere; I'm only here for Phantom."

"Fine with me" she replied. And considering what they may be facing, part of her was glad for this company.

They moved on, only now their steps picked up speed; their boots squelching over the dampening ground as the merciless cries sang through the air. Ada hoped that whatever was creating this demonic song stayed away from them, but at this point she knew well enough that it was nothing more than wishful thinking. Whatever they were, these monsters were heading right for them.


	10. Chapter 10

_Finally uploaded. I know I say sorry for the late updates all the time, and I swear I really am. I hope you guys like this new chapter. And to everyone who has reviewed me and read my story so far, you guys are all absolutely brilliant! Thanks._

* * *

**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter Ten**

"So they survived."

"I don't understand how that's possible sir."

"You don't need to. Where are they now?"

"Approaching the old hotel area sir; they've almost made it to the clearing."

Patrick Wilforn kept something in mind as he viewed the remains of the B.O.W on the huge wall screen, something that he couldn't dislodge even if he wanted to: Don't celebrate a victory until it is undeniably certain, because in any battle there is always at least a single variable that can not be foreseen. He held this knowledge to be a sometimes aggravating but always useful truth, one he'd hold close during any situation.

He stood still, arms folded loosely across his chest, gazing at the screen in the surveillance chamber. What he had just witnessed play out for all to see had been enough to surprise even him; all that now remained of the beast was a mutilated and defeated corpse, left over by the two intruders; the gushing shades of red were hidden, as were the colours of the forest, blanketed in a sheet of green as the concealed camera was switched to night mode. If survival was indeed a talent – and Wilforn believed it so – then this unknown pair had remarkable skill for cheating their own destruction. He would have admired their efforts, but alas he had no intention of allowing them to travel any further; whoever they were, they were a threat and couldn't be left to their own devices. They had to go.

"Show them to me," he called, still looking at the dead creature on the large screen.

"Yes Mr Wilforn." One of the people manning the various consoles replied.

The young man was now stepping hastily across the forest floor, apparently trying to keep up with the brunette, who appeared to be in a great hurry; Wilforn could only imagine that she was planning to breach the facility. Why else would she be on the island? But the man, Wilforn wasn't so sure about him: when he'd first been alerted to the problem, it turned out that the two had arrived on the island separately, but had quickly linked up; Wilforn had witnessed the meeting, and the detail that the footage had revealed was obvious, that the woman had not expected this encounter. Although it didn't matter; they seemed to know each other and had worked together to kill the creature, so despite the young man's drastic and impressive ingenuity in wiping it off the face of the Earth, Wilforn was still committed to slaughtering the both of them before they could reach his estate on the surface.

The surface of the island was growing darker by the minute, with shadows seeping across the ground and multiplying as the seconds rolled by, as if they were taking on a life of their own and where now reaching out to claim nature back for the night. Several people manned workstations, scanning numerous monitors that held different locations in their sights, places all over the island; no corner was neglected, nothing missed even for an instant. No one had spoken to Wilforn since the incident at the dock; the man and woman who had arrived on the island – the ones responsible for destroying the amphibious behemoth – were only the latest in the surprises of the day.

As it turned out another group – a small number of dark clad soldiers – had just destroyed the two boats docked on the island, and now seemed to be heading toward the helipad on the island's northern end. _Troublesome little pack of jackals aren't they,_ he thought. Someone was trying to trap him here, someone who had considerable knowledge of his operations, and Wilforn would take great pleasure in locating the one pulling the strings, just as soon as he'd dealt with this latest issue. Whether the couple in the forest and the soldiers were working together or not was irrelevant, because none of them would survive the night.

Wilforn paced back and forth, stepping past his seated employees who continued to monitor the growing situation with an angst that he could practically taste. As he moved, keeping his eyes fixed on the main screen, he went down the short list of people who might have had knowledge of his work or whereabouts. He could only really think of two people; he didn't suspect any form of government action against him, because once his former company had been shut down his public life and image had faded along with it, vanishing from the world stage in a puff of smoke. Any possible government contracts had also met their fate that day, leaving only the Umbrella Corporation.

It was Umbrella, or rather its founder Ozwell Spencer who had taken Wilforn in at the last minute, seeing the potential in the research he was conducting and wanting to maximise that potential. The older man was awash with vision of his own, and had recognised the kindred spirit in Wilforn, giving him the vast resources and talent to continue his work, of course without the knowledge of the rest of the company, or at least the majority. Wilforn had been working in the shadows all these years, undisturbed by the various troubles of Umbrella, mainly the Raccoon City incident, which had cost the company greatly.

But this thought didn't feel natural as it sat within his mind; he didn't believe that Spencer was the one responsible for this intrusion into his world. Spencer had fully approved of his work and wanted him to continue in secret; although Wilforn had given some thought to the possibility that Spencer might want to steal his research once it had arrived at a certain stage of development, no longer having need for him, but somehow he didn't think this was the case. If Spencer was going to betray him, then he'd know it. What was troubling was the fact that he'd not heard a single word from Spencer for a whole year, since the fall of Umbrella; apparently the man had removed himself from the public eye, dropping off the face of the planet, along with many gifted people in his employ, as if the he'd never existed to begin with.

The more he thought about these things, the more his mind lingered on someone else, someone whom he'd been hearing a great many things about over the past couple of years – beginning as a minor stirring in the swelling arena of equally swelling ambitions, and then rising onto the scene and announcing to all that a new and threateningly competent presence had breathed itself into being – and someone who might just show a keen interest in the activities on the island. Albert Wesker, according to intelligence gathered, was massing a great many secrets, viral samples and data etc, from certain abandoned Umbrella installations all around the world, making Wilforn believe that perhaps Spencer was indeed gone for good. And while Wilforn had never come into contact with Wesker personally it was obvious that the man's soul desire was power above all else, and the work on the island base would be too great a prize to be ignored; no one else – at least to Wilforn's impressive knowledge – had yet achieved anything like it. He wasn't about to give up his life's work without a fight. He'd sooner die before anyone took it from him.

"Excuse me sir,"

Wilforn glanced over his shoulder for just a moment, taking in the figure now standing just behind him; his tall and thick frame coated in a suit of dark grey, his hair shaved almost to his scalp. His features hard and expressionless, disturbed only by the clean line of a scar running down his forehead, slicing his left eyebrow in two. Wilforn turned back to the screen, watching the travelling couple as he spoke to the man who had served long and efficiently as his trusted right hand.

"What do you have?" Wilforn asked.

"It wasn't difficult to find information on the man: his name is Leon Scott Kennedy, an agent working for the United States government."

Wilforn nodded faintly. "And the woman?"

"So far nothing has been uncovered, but it is still being looked into."

Despite himself, Wilforn felt slightly troubled at this latest information. "What would the US Government want here, I wonder?"

"They'd have no way of knowing about your operation here sir,"

"Possibly," Wilforn said. "Although I wonder about this woman; she didn't arrive with the agent, and she didn't appear to be expecting company. So whom is she working for? And how is she acquainted with the agent - this Kennedy?"

"We'll find out soon enough," the scarred man said. "But there's something else – about the agent; he's a survivor of Raccoon City."

The Raccoon City disaster, the very thing that spelled the end of Umbrella, the catalyst for their destruction: that day, the day of the nuclear detonation had shocked the world. The T-virus had claimed so many lives even before that incident, in Umbrella's decades long pursuit of perfection, of power. Raccoon City had been the final straw. But then Wilforn wasn't surprised; the deaths of almost one hundred thousand people couldn't go unnoticed. Everyone had felt the mighty blow to the country, but none more than by the few people who had lived to tell the tale of that dreadful day.

If this Leon Kennedy truly was a survivor of Umbrella's grandest failure, and if he really was working for the US government, then his arrival on the island couldn't be treated lightly. Wilforn didn't like this at all. The American agent, and then the unknown woman. Someone was playing games: the two of them showing up at the same time as the soldiers who destroyed the dock. What was the connection, he wondered? Unfortunately he didn't have the time to spend on capturing them alive, as he knew they'd all be dead before they got within arms reach of his men; the B.O.W's on the island would have to do. Wilforn had to move fast if he wanted to be rid of this attention.

"Mr Wells," Wilforn said. "I think it might be best if you secured all relevant data and relocated to our back-up facility for the time being."

"Isn't that a little premature sir?" the man in the suit – Wells – asked. "I know that the man is with the American government but I think there may be more going on here."

"That's exactly why I'm not taking any chances; I'm uncertain as to the motivations and backgrounds of the various players involved, and until I become certain I want to leave nothing for any greedy pockets out there. So I want the main project away from here; all data and samples are to be taken to the other facility until I say otherwise. Understood?"

"As you wish sir."

"Sir," another person – manning one of the many pieces of surveillance equipment – called out. "They've reached the clearing."

Wilforn watched as the footage on the large screen switched to another camera, revealing the two once again as the almost invisible specks of rain began to fall; Wilforn could make out enough detail to see that they were in the middle of a conversation, an uncomfortable one by the looks of things. He had no time for either of them; they were trespassing into his domain and that would cost the both of them dearly.

"Activate the alarm now," he said. "The T-virus may be a dead end creation, but the creatures it spawns can be useful in these times."

Wilforn knew that if the agent and his unknown accomplice reached the hotel then they might indeed find cover, and prolong their lives for a short time. The island was just moments away from crawling with an army of death seeking beasts, so as long as they could last, Wilforn knew it wouldn't be long enough to do any harm. There were numerous cameras within the large neglected structure also; Wherever Agent Kennedy and his friend went, they would never be out of Wilforn's sight.

"Sir, I've always wondered," Mr Wells said. "Why is there a hotel on this island?"

"The Island was originally intended as a tourist sight; the hotel was built in the early fifties but construction was never fully completed. When I arrived it seemed like a waste of time to remove it."

The high assaulting wail of an alarm had just been activated, and while nothing could be heard from where Wilforn stood, he knew that it would raise the attention of anyone lurking on the island's surface instantly. He smiled faintly when he saw Kennedy and the woman standing near the tree line, both cautiously and quite nervously looking about as the alarm sounded. At this point there would be nothing they could do but hope for a quick death, but considering the vicious appetites of the creatures coming their way, Wilforn had doubts that they would be granted any such kindness.

"Sir, the B.O.W's are coming up from their burrows now," one of Wilforn's staff reported.

"Good," Wilforn said. "They should hear them soon enough; those creatures tend to make a lot of noise when their hunger reaches its peak. Maybe we can test the enhanced 448 as well– "

Wilforn's words were halted when the radio kicked in; everyone jolted in their seats when a sharp piercing scream filled the chamber, a cry coming from somewhere in the facility. Wilforn heard the same thing from his com-link, not knowing what had happened just yet and finding that panic was the last thing that would enter his brain until he knew what he was dealing with. And then came the machinegun fire, followed painfully by the frenzied howling and roaring of monsters, shaking the multiple staff members in their very seats. Wilforn ignored their reactions, pressing the com-link closer with his index finger as the sounds intensified.

"This is Wilforn. What's happening out there?"

"This is security chief Merric . . . we need . . . assistance . . . an explosion at the north gate . . . the base . . . breached, I repeat, the base has been . . . "

"What?" Wilforn felt his voice rise a touch too high for his liking. "What are you saying? Get yourself together Merric."

"Please, this isn't a joke," the chief of security responded, his voice clearer now. "Someone just blew the north entrance, B.O.W's from the surface are entering . . . we need assistance . . . dying . . . help!"

Wilforn's thoughts briefly went back to the group of soldiers who destroyed the dock; he'd only now activated the alarm, and now it seemed as if someone had breached the facility, as if waiting for this moment to arrive. Wilforn held his concerns in sturdy check; the last thing his people needed was to see even the slightest hint of frustration, as it would only make things worse. The people working within this room were not combatants, and would no doubt descend into a blind panic if any amount of control was lost to them.

Deafening roars sprang through loud speakers, and the sounds of the dying rang out, coupled with the furious spray of bullets thundering out from automatic weapons, followed swiftly by the piercing screeches of the creatures who fought to wipe out his men. From the sounds Wilforn knew that there must have been a great number of them pouring in, which meant he needed to wrap things up, and he had to be quick about it, before anyone else made their presence known.

Wilforn placed a firm hand on the shoulder of one of the men manning a station. "Lock that area down now," he didn't need to see the man's face, or the reluctance to trap the members of his security in that section of the base. He felt it, bright and clear, and irritating. "Do it now, and have team three sent down there in case any of those things slip through the net."

"Yes sir," the man nodded his sweaty brow, then tapping numerous keys in front of him.

Wilforn turned back to the main screen. "Show me what's happening in the northern sector."

A passage soon came into view, it's grey walls pasted with the red life of human beings, sprayed across the ground, with torn limbs and organs dripping crimson and almost swimming among the river of death that the passage now held. One man, who was still breathing, slipped and stumbled through, trying to battle his own demise as one of the B.O.W's charged him. The man barely had a chance to raise his weapon before the creature took one swipe with an abnormally large hand, and then he was torn in half right from the waist, separated instantly in a deep showering cloud of blood. Wilforn watched, feeling no guilt for his decision. The man wouldn't have made it from the northern entrance anyway, and would have only postponed his death by a couple of mere ticks of a clock. The research within the lower levels was far more important than any one person; the loss of a small team of men was nothing to him. Guns and the hands skilled in wielding them were a dime a dozen, and could be replaced at any time.

Within the next few seconds the entire area surrounding the northern entrance was locked down, with his men in place, ready for any other surprises. The fighting seemed – for the moment – to have stopped. From the view Wilforn had of the passage where the battle had just taken place, or the massacre (Wilforn was inclined to name the latter) it appeared that one of his few small security teams was now destroyed. B.O.W's now stalked the corridors, comings in and out of view every few moments. Though they were trapped within that area. The situation was now back under control.

"Well that takes care of that," Wilforn said, satisfied for the moment. He put his finger to his earpiece again. "Team three; have you secured any ways leading out of the northern sector?"

"Every door leading into the facility has been sealed, sir," a deep voice responded. "My men are standing guard as we speak."

"Good. Report back to me the second something changes."

"Mr Wilforn," Wells said. "I believe we've located the problem."

Wilforn turned back to his man, watching as Wells stood with one of the staff, both looking to the small monitor in front of them. Wilforn stepped closer, moving in until he saw what they were looking at. The picture displayed the view of a long corridor in the locked down area; the camera sat just above one of the sealed doors, staring down the length of the passageway. A man was standing there, within the cold space of granted flooring and grey wall panels. He was right at the door, and looking up at the camera; Wilforn had the image brought up on the main screen before stepping away from the console, with Wells close behind him. Everyone in the room saw this, and Wilforn could feel the chills running down the spines of some of his people. Part of him understood, because despite not being able to see the man's mind from this distance, he could still make out the sparkle in his eyes, and his intentions were well understood.

Wilforn felt annoyance at the very sight of this person, as the man played with a blood soaked knife, a small but still beaming grin forming on his deathly pale features. There was no sound, but the physical shake of his chuckles as he stepped away was clean and clear. _How did this arrogant flee get down here undetected?_ He wondered. Wilforn's reluctant frown began to ache his head as he watched the man exit casually from the passage.

"Strange," Wells said. "He looks familiar."

"Anyone you might have known?" Wilforn asked half-heartedly.

"Hmmm... ," Wells paused for a moment, unsure. "Maybe."

Wells had spent a lot of time within the military, with some years even served in the Special Air Service, so there was no doubt that he'd met his share of skilled killers in his time. Wilforn didn't think on this too much however; this man, whoever he was, was as good as dead, so discovering his identity was absolutely pointless.

"Well there's no way for him to get any further; he's trapped with those creatures."

"He's coming back." Someone said.

Wilforn didn't need informing; he could see this fact well enough on his own without the statement. The man returned to the passage, standing at a considerable distance from the door this time. Wilforn watched as he raised something in his hands, something large, resting it on his shoulder, and nature of the item only became apparent as it was pointed toward the door.

His eyes widened when he saw this, seeing the man give a brief but smug wave at the camera before firing, and then there was nothing but the snowy blizzard of static on the large screen. A low rumble sounded out in the distance, but the desired effect of the rocket launcher was no doubt met with flying colours, as well of shredded metal.

"Sir, sir," the leader of team three called in two seconds later, interrupting Wilforn's speechless amazement. "Sir, one the doors has been destroyed. Request further orders."

Wilforn didn't know who this man was, or whom for certain he was working for, but he wasn't about to let him stand in his way. "Barricade that entrance as best you can," he ordered the team leader. "And hold it for as long as you are able."

"Do you want me to take care of him sir?" Wells asked.

"No," Wilforn said. "Proceed with the task at hand, secure the necessary items and head for the other facility. The security teams can deal with this for now; I'll use the 448's if I have to. He wont be a pest for long."

* * *

Wesker had already left to coordinate his latest operation; Watson could have been pleased with how the situation had turned out: running the labs and all personnel should have been something that wouldn't have bothered him in the least, at least on any other occasion. In his long and questionable career, Watson had been involved with all kinds of opportunistic slime, but working under Wesker had been an interesting experience to put it mildly, and gave him the opportunity to be a part of groundbreaking work, work that could very well turn out to be world changing.

There was just one small problem, and Watson had been having tremendous doubts that this issue could go anywhere but down. Wesker's absence could only stir the pot, stirring away in that blackened cauldron of a ticking time bomb until something gave and that bomb went off. With Wesker heading to Wilforn Island that misshapen cog could very well rip all of their efforts to pointless ribbons. And now Watson had been intruded upon by a burning and stabbing anxiety, and he couldn't realistically see it simmering down any time soon.

He was now speedily walking, heading towards his sleeping quarters, considering himself fortunate that it wasn't yet time for Lisa's treatment; in all truth he wasn't sure what the point was in trying with her. It wasn't that he didn't believed that their research wasn't worth some trial and error, a degree of risk, but taking the girl's state of mind into account, Watson couldn't even begin to fathom how Wesker could leave her to roam freely.

The only sections of the facility that were forbidden to her were the labs, and the armoury, both of which Watson found ridiculous: first of all, firearms were irrelevant to her. _She can kill without lifting a finger anyway, or pulling a trigger,_ he thought. And as far as the lab went, well Watson guessed that the mind of a fifteen-year-old girl wasn't looking to be quenched by the evolution of science, and the labours it involved. In fact, Watson wasn't really sure what actually interested Lisa Sanderan; it certainly wasn't the pop culture of the modern age. Since she had arrived all she had really done was waltz about in an almost royal manner. _Stuck up little bitch!_ She looked down her nose at every last person she came into contact with. Wesker aside, Watson had no trouble believing that the girl hated all of them, as if they were nothing more than bugs, excrement, slithers of unimportant nothing, to be crushed underfoot for whatever pathetic reason she might have at the time. Her moods changed like a stormy climate, and even on her best day, he believed completely that she would see an end to them all if she could.

Watson had been working hard all day, and was now tiring at a quickened pace. He'd done all he could do in truth. The rest was up to Wesker and whether or not he could locate the things they both required for this project to continue on its desired course. He knew that he'd have to ready Lisa's next dose before long, but until that time he wanted at least a couple of hours of sleep. Coffee could only see a person through for so long, and Watson was growing tired of the stuff. No further development would arise yet, and Dale was competent enough to managed without him, at least for a time. Although Watson would have to remember to talk to him about his mouth; speaking out of turn to Wesker wasn't something that would ever breed good results, and that fact went for more or less everybody.

He walked into his quarters, closing the door behind him as he went. The space wasn't huge, but just enough for his needs. His life mostly took place within a lab, so he didn't need a great deal. A fairly large desk stood in front of him, and was at the moment hidden in darkness. He stepped across the simple rough carpeting that covered the floor, switching the lamp on at his desk before sitting in a worn but comfy leather chair, letting out an exhale of relief as he let his body collapse into its welcoming embrace.

And then he saw her, his body bolting up from the chair with the sudden shocking realisation that he wasn't alone. He didn't know how he couldn't have noticed as soon as the room had been enveloped in low illumination; he'd not heard a sound, no breathing, and no shifting of the body. She simply sat on his bed, still as a statue. Almost frozen. Her back was against the wall; her legs crossed on the bed sheets, with her small weight giving only the slightest dent in the fabric, the barest ripple. Watson's efforts to keep his emotions in check were met with success, once he'd managed to get over the initial surprise, although a prickle of anger made it self known at her presence. _Who does she think she is, coming in here like– _Watson shut the thought out before she could hear more, but he could have slapped himself for thinking something like that in front of her; she could see his thoughts after all. He didn't like having his control slip from under him, and the fact that she hadn't even acknowledged him yet was even worse. Even more insulting.

When she finally spoke, her face was still hidden from him, concealed behind a book of his that she'd been reading when he first saw her. "Thank god, Rutherford," she said. "You are capable of imagining things."

"What?" Watson whispered, unmoving from his spot behind the desk.

"It's from the book," she replied, lowering the cover, looking back at him with a strange dancing glimmer her eyes. "Lost Horizon. Its about Shangri-La; a hidden Paradise where people live longer, and are never sick. Advanced people. Sounds comforting, doesn't it?"

"I suppose... " Watson managed, feeling a deathly unease at the look in her eyes.

"But you probably wouldn't know what that feels like, would you?" she said, her face calm and collected as she went on, chucking the book down beside her. "Well whatever. Do you believe in hidden places?"

Watson didn't know what she was trying to tell him, but he thought that if he played along it might allow him to steer her away from him for a while. He placed his hands on the table, trying to slow his heart rate as best he could; its rhythm bothered him, as he knew she'd pick up on this as well, and giving her that satisfaction was out of the question.

"I believe there might be _some_ places, perhaps," he said, finding the situation far too surreal. "Anchient cities maybe, tombs– "

"Islands?" Lisa said. "You can't forget those."

Watson tried to cease his current thoughts, but from the slight tightening between Lisa's eyebrows, he knew she'd caught it. "Lisa, I'm– "

"Sit back down," Lisa said, her voice plain and undemanding.

Before Watson could say anything, or do anything, he felt something touch him, shoving him hard into his chair. It wasn't enough to hurt him, but the threat was there all the same, in fact he could almost see it, and smell it, wafting about the room like swirls of cigarette smoke, and Watson suddenly realised that a cigarette would be perfect right now, but didn't dare reach for anything. Fear wasn't something anyone enjoyed, at least not to this uncontrollable degree, and he was no different; the situation had ripped the control from him, if it ever really existed, and he was now at the mercy of something that he was convinced hadn't a drop to speak of.

"What do you want with me Lisa?"

"I want you to tell me something,"

"Tell you what?"

"I want you to tell me if I'm capable of imagining things. I thought I was, I imagine when I wake up that I will not see your tiny wrinkled face ever again, I imagine that everyone is like me, and doesn't litter every corner of this boring place with their tedious presence and endless drivel. But its just imagining isn't it? It isn't really real?"

Watson liked the conversation even less as it went on, already knowing the conclusion, but desperate to avoid it. "Then you are capable of imagini– "

"But earlier on today, I imagined that I was being lied to," she went on, and was now moving to sit on the edge of the bed, a frown creeping into her face. "I imagined that father was going to a hidden place on an island, and that it has something to do with me. And no one told me about this. So I have to assume that I'm imagining the entire thing. I must be, right? Father wouldn't keep anything from me, would he? So I have to wonder if his pet, his oh so clever Dr Watson is hiding something."

"Lisa, I wouldn't lie I w- wouldn't."

"Lie about what? About the fact that you've been adding something to my injections recently?" she interlaced her fingers, her mouth pulled tight before she went one. "I have to admit, I never mentioned anything to father because I wanted to see what he was up to and why he was keeping things from me. I first noticed the difference in the treatment last night when I tried to read my father's thoughts; I could only get fragments; it comes and goes, but it never lasts long. Whatever you used didn't work, and now I'm unhappy, very very unhappy."

Watson was now terrified, his muscles aching, his breath racing through his lungs, from the harshness of a fear that he wasn't sure he'd been capable of. All he wanted to do was run for the door, but he knew he'd never make it before she killed him. He knew he had to keep her talking, keep her at bay until he could invent some excuse to leave, in case _she_ didn't. And above all, he fought with every inch of his will to keep his thoughts to a minimum; anything she picked up on might set her off.

_How did she know? _"W- what is it you're after Lisa? Just... just tell me and I'll try to help you as best as I can."

Watson stayed locked in place as Lisa stood from the bed, walking towards him in short delicate strides; nothing in her body language suggested that she might harm him, but when the desk left the floor, he realised that her outward appearance meant nothing at all. It took to the air, and a shower of items from upon surface shattered across the room. The desk made contact with the wall near his door, the entire thing shattering into splitters. And then his frightened eyes saw her; not even realising that she'd straddled his lap, placing hers hands on either side of his head, her fingers digging into his clammy skin, pressing so hard that he thought they would bury themsevles into his skull. Her face was only an inch from his own, and Watson was so gripped in terror that he didn't even register that fact that he had pissed himself.

"I want you to tell me why my father didn't want me on that island. I want you to be an obedient little maggot and say the words, or I'm going to dig them out of you. I promise that by the time I'm finished, you'll be begging me to end you."

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm going to be working on the next one right away, so I'm hoping to have that out soon. Bye for now!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Well I said this update would come soon, and for once I was right. Hope you all enjoy this latest chapter. I do not own Resident Evil, it and all its characters are the property of _Capcom.

* * *

**Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 11**

Leon remembered something, something from a long time ago, when he was no older then twelve. He'd been asked on more than one occasion if he was purposely trying to get his lights knocked out around every corner? School had been a bumpy experience (it was the only way he could phrase it) considering his attitude towards certain people, people who just couldn't leave the undeserving to themselves. In this particular instance his mind wandered, dangerously departing from his current predicament and sailing off into the distant and yet still vivid memory of a certain girl, one he recalled having the most prominent crush on back then. Katherine. That had been her name. For the life of him he couldn't remember her last name, but nevertheless it was a chapter of his life that would never leave him, and an element of that situation still existed today.

Katherine had been in his class, her desk right next his own; he never had trouble sneaking a glance at her unnoticed, and he could have sworn at the time that she spared him a look or two as well. The discovery of the opposite sex was about to begin, a heavily uncharted territory that was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. Whenever he caught her brief gaze upon him, his heart would race, his childish imagination running wild with new possibilities. But what had really confused him back then was how distant she was, how her eyes would move to him with reluctant affection in them. She was constantly out of reach, even though she appeared to like him. While she was in the forefront of his imaginings, she was always in the background of his physical world. An idea that could never be realised, a mirage that could never be met – could never be grasped, and Leon's fascination could not have been stronger. No other girl had existed.

_Its funny; plenty women seem interested but the only one I want is the one that wont stay still.  
_

And then the world came back down onto his head, in pearls of plummeting water, bleeding from the blackness above. Ada was a few feet ahead of him, carrying her slender form across the grass with a swiftness that he could only just match, her boots kicking up clusters of wet earth as she moved. His own steps squelched audibly as he kept pace, feeling his feet sink a couple of inches each time they came down. The weather was intensifying all around them, with the environment no longer as forthcoming to the eye, now that the night had fallen completely. At this point in time speed was important, but Leon's footing even more so; he didn't want to go sprawling head over heels, not now. However slowing down, even for a second, might be the death of him.

He didn't like those sounds – those savage cries for the shredded flesh of the living – and how close they now were. Even with the heavy rainfall, those beasts, which Leon fearfully guessed where large in number, were drawing in on them. Closer and closer they came, looking for their reluctant victims. He hated the anticipation, hated the howling screams of the unseen threats bearing down on them, and yet they continued to plague his ears anyway.

Ada spared him a brief look, probably checking to see he was still there, and then her pace pushed to an even greater speed and Leon was forced to keep up or lose her. He thought it fortunate that he did laps around his apartment complex every day; there was more than one reason why he was still alive after all this time, one of which being that when he needed to, he could run like the wind. They couldn't separate yet, not with what they were up against. As much as he knew his presence hindered her assignment, Leon also knew that Ada wasn't stupid; she understood as well as he did that they couldn't survive if they were divided. For now they were partnered up again. _Yeah, but for how long? _

Leon guessed that they had maybe another twenty seconds before they caught site of whatever was out there. The day was turning into a bad joke, and not the quick as a bunny mission that Leon had in mind. His intentions had been simple enough, but now every kind of obstacle imaginable was materialising out of the void to get the better of him, at least that's what it felt like. _I guess it's a good thing I don't give up easily._

"Up ahead," Ada suddenly called back to him, leaping over a patch of long grass before pointing further on.

Leon saw it, but just barely; a dark hulking structure ahead of them, barely visible even as it stood silhouetted against the cloudy sky. It's misshapen appearance became clearer as they shortened the distance, and Leon could see numerous signs of decay; grasping tendrils of weeds and other plants grew against the rotting walls, clutching at the cracked and split beast of a construction that stood in the clearing, battered and alone. Lightning struck as they ran, the resulting white flash illuminated the structure for a brief instant, revealing its broken and gaping entry way where two doors might have stood once, now only an doorway into darkness, a jagged screaming mouth, beckoning them both to come forward and be devoured. Seeking refuge within was an unspoken agreement between the two of them; Leon knew she'd be thinking the same, both falling into sync with each other, as if they were made to act as one.

From what he could make out Leon thought that it looked like an old hotel, maybe one that had been left to natures' indifferent power for far too many years to keep count. In any case there were no other options available to either of them; buying themselves some time within its walls was all they could do right now. Leon thought that maybe they could loose the things chasing them. Maybe hide and wait them out? He just needed time to think, to get his head straight and plan out their next move. Unless Ada had something better in mind? It was more than possible; she always seemed to have a plan B, which would be a fortunate thing for the both of them.

He was now side by side with her, their racing steps smacking on entirely different ground suddenly, coated in chipped concrete that took up a large area around the building's front entrance, disturbed by weeds pushing through the countless cracks in its surface. Leon thought about asking Ada if she had any suggestions on what their next step should be, but the words died before they even began to take proper form. He felt the widening of his eyes as he looked over to the right, towards the darkness of the trees beyond.

"Ada!"

She didn't look, but her face - as lightning shot across the landscape again - was enough to clear up any lingering doubts he had that she wasn't aware of the monsters proximity. They were in view now, coming from all around; hordes of huge dark shapes barrelling towards them, flowing as one entity like a hostile black cloud. There were too many for Leon to count, two many beasts with glowing yellow eyes that flickered manically. They'd be on Leon and Ada in seconds.

Hiding in one spot within the building would be completely impossible now, Leon was certain of that. But maybe they still had a chance to ditch the oncoming stampede of claws and teeth. He saw them getting closer, a river of dirty matted fur with enormous arms, greater than the length of a man's entire body, cutting through the air as they bounded towards them. And they were huge, perhaps twice the mass of a silverback gorilla. It was a frightful sight, at least for as long as Leon cared to look.

"Shit," he said. "We're not getting out of this that easy. We need to get inside now."

"Force them to come at us in smaller numbers," Ada said.

They passed through the crumbling mouth of the hotel, the rain ceasing to plague them as they entered the wasted and forgotten lobby. _Welcome to Arkham Asylum!_ Leon thought. He took the lead, his soaked boots sending small stones of fallen plaster clattering across the floor as he raced through the open area, clicking on the flashlight of his handgun as he fought to shut out the deafening roars of their pursuers. A beam of light joined his a split second later, and Leon saw that Ada had followed suit with a flashlight on her belt. It wouldn't have been his first choice to do this; the creatures would obviously be attracted to the lights like a moth to a flame, but it was a hell of a lot better than running around in the dark. Considering the apparent age of the building, manoeuvring through the haunting spaces without sight could kill them just as easy as a bullet to the head.

Leon's torch exposed a set of stairs at the other end of the lobby; he lifted his hand, signalling for Ada to follow. They ran by a faded and slumped reception desk and started up the stairs, whose responding creaks and groans cut through the howls and storm, entering Leon's ears with crystal clarity._ Don't you even think of breaking ya son of a bitch._ They took a left at the top, turning onto another set of stairs, and in seemingly worse condition than the first. Leon thought briefly that even the slightest touch could send the soaked and mould covered steps into collapse. But they couldn't stop, not for anything. Leon took the steps quickly, three at a time as Ada followed. Her light was out of his field of vision, and Leon didn't need to look to know that she was covering their backs. The creatures could still be heard and were no doubt closing in with deadly purpose.

He reached the top, halting his steps when he heard something snap loudly behind him, and turned just in time to see Ada leap from the last step, before the entire staircase caved, crashing down below in a thick cloud of dust. Ada landed beside him with the same grace he'd seen her capable of before, and gave him a simple nod before he turned his gun toward the hallway they'd now entered. His light displaying the vivid detail of age and rot on the blackened panels laid across the floor, with frayed and damp shreds of tattered old carpet here and there that had long ago lost its original colour. The walls were bare, dank and dripping with rain, with windows lined all the way down one side, sitting without glass, lying open and inviting to the raging pore from outside.

They moved through the area quickly, Leon switching point to Ada, covering her back as she swept her weapon through the long ravaged space that might have been grand in its day. He kept an eye turned towards the fallen stairway; he wasn't in any way convinced that the lack of human entry into his area would hinder the B.O.W's in any way. But that wasn't the only problem: the building looked ready to fall down, every square inch was dying and wouldn't last much longer. The ceiling was populated with openings, and rain had made it's way through from the upper levels from times passed, weakening the structure all the more. Leon had imagined many ways that his life could come to an end, but being turned into hamburger by a falling ceiling hadn't made the list. _Sorry pal, but you're going to have to wait your turn._

He slowed his pace ever so slightly as Ada trained her gun through the doorways to the many guest rooms that they passed. The cries of the things outside continued, the enthusiasm in their wild songs never ceasing to ring through the lightning, and the thunder that had only just joined the congregation. Despite the lights that they'd released into the hall there were still many patches of darkness that could have held something of a threatening nature, and while Leon watched Ada closely he also had to juggle those efforts with the destroyed stairway they'd come from. But strangely, as the seconds ticked by, the army of genetic wrongdoing should have been making its appearance. Only it hadn't, not yet.

There was something about this that bugged him, and Leon looked towards Ada just in time to see her cast him an uneasy look. So far as Leon could tell there weren't many promising positions, places that they could dig in the let the bastards have it. There was no where for them to hold up and pick them off one by one.

"Leon," Ada called over her shoulder, looking into one of the rooms. "I think coming in here might have been more trouble than we thought."

"What's wrong?" Leon said, coming up behind Ada quickly, not liking the sound in her voice.

"Well you might have noticed all the open windows," she said. "But those and the stairs, I'm afraid, aren't the only access points."

Leon could see what she was talking about the moment he joined her. Flashing his light into the room, and being greeted annoyingly with the site of a giant opening where the wall should have been. "I know people like a room with a view, but give me a break."

He saw the corners of Ada's mouth twist upward a little. "Things just keep getting better and better, don't they handsome?"

"Well we sure as hell cant stick around here," Leon switched to point, moving toward the end of the hall, where another staircase lay in wait on the right. "But I think we should at least check upstairs before we start acting like old pessimists."

Ada's laugh in response was short, and maybe a tad forced, but it was still enough to surprise him. "That's what I've always liked about you Leon: your sweet little boy optimism. Don't lose it, its one of your best qualities."

He decided not to remark upon her words, finding that their usual banter was severely out of place. This new nightmare they'd found themselves stuck in wasn't getting any easier. And the very idea of cracking jokes with Ada – with a woman who had only two weeks ago held him at gun-point after saving his life, someone who he'd basically called a murderer only a day ago – could easily rank as one of the most surreal events of his career, of his life. Also, he'd noticed something else: she'd been so desperate to move on earlier, and probably still was, though he'd come to know this well already. But her recent moods were an odd thing indeed: first surprised and maybe a little pissed off, followed by agitation later, and now playful. _Just what is it about this mission of hers that's got her acting so. . . strange? I've never seen her like this before._

Maybe it was because of Phantom? He knew that it was possible; he didn't know anything about her past with the man, only that she'd apparently killed him. _And now he wants Ada dead in a good old-fashioned revenge of the loony-toon kind of way_. But Leon didn't think that was all of the story, and it was more than clear that she wasn't about to answer any questions he might throw at her, and would probably treat it like an interrogation more than anything else. She was a closely guarding person, and Leon hated to admit this, but he was aching to find out why, to discover what lay beneath that cool and collected shell that she'd constructed. He wanted to know the real her, and he supposed that he always had. But the realist in him stated the facts so loud and clear that it pained him to think about it, and it was a pain that his heart had carried for years; that he'd never find out why, why she lived the way she did, why she kept her distance, and that knowledge cut into him whenever these things drifted into his thoughts. And he hated it.

To his gratitude, Leon's pondering of the subject were cut short when they reached the second set of stairs. His thankfulness however didn't live very long at all, not when he saw what lay before them. Both sets of steps, leading down and up, both had disintegrated and had fallen away long ago. Nothing remained at all, leaving a bleak open space as the two stood silently for a second. Leon saw the next floor up above, laughing down at them from a distance. The image of him trying to make the jump went through his mind, but ultimately ended with him missing the mark and sinking fatally into the darkness below.

"Just great," Leon said, a small sigh escaping his lips.

"Leon. If you're going to jump, I'd suggest doing it now." Ada said, her tone urgent, her Springfield handgun already sending bullets back down the hall.

_Jump! Oh ok, no pressure then.__  
_

Leon raised his weapon, the light working with Ada's in catching the sight of the first group of beasts as they stormed into the hall at the other end, clawing and biting at one another for the rite to claim their meal. One staggered into wall to its right and stayed there, two dripping holes opening its skull, courtesy of Ada's skilful aim. Leon opened fire without a second thought, sweat and rainwater trickling down his face as he repeatedly pulled the trigger. The hallway was doing its job for the moment; it wasn't the most narrow of spaces, but the creatures couldn't surround them yet, but with the shear number that were now entering the hall, Leon was positive that it would only be a matter of seconds before they were both overwhelmed.

"Ada!" he said. "Use your grapple and get into the upper floor." He was firing as he yelled the words.

"Aren't you coming?"

"We need to slow them down first," Leon ceased his suppressing fire, lowering the gun and pulling a grenade from his belt. "It's our only chance."

He saw the look on Ada's face, the unexpected reluctance to comply in her eyes. Leon smiled inwardly, when he caught the confliction on her features as her drenched black hair fell glistening around them. But she nodded her agreement, retrieving the grapple gun and aiming it carefully toward the ceiling in the next floor. _Well what do you know_, he thought. _She doesn't want to leave me to die._ And then she was going up, taking to the air like a bird. Like a butterfly. Soaring out of his reach for the hundredth time. When he was sure that she was safely above, Leon backed away from the broken stairway, adrenaline pumping violently through his veins as he prepared himself. And then he pulled the pin on the grenade, launching it toward them, and not giving another look as he ran, pushing his legs to move with a purpose like they had never known, hoping, preying, that it would be enough. He could see Ada's light above, but her figure, and everything else was cast into a truly inconvenient darkness. But there was nothing he could do now; he couldn't use his own light as it was attached to his gun, and he needed both hands available to him if he even had a chance of catching the edge of the next floor.

It was the split second after Leon's body left the ground that it happened, that the advance of their would-be killers was ceased with a blast that shook through everything, tearing through concrete and wood, ripping apart meat and bone. The howls of agony followed, along with the roar of the floor tearing down, taking the monsters with it, and all of this happened before Leon's hands gripped the floor above. By some miracle he'd made the jump, digging in with every ounce of strength he had, willing himself to force his weight upward, his efforts eased as he felt Ada's slender but strong fingers around his wrists, and seconds later he was standing beside her, unnerved momentarily by the vibration that went through his feet at the collapse of the rest of the hall, as ashy grey bursts of plaster and charred floor boards went permanently south. _Jesus, I was just standing on that._

They began moving again, with Leon drawing his handgun and taking point once more. There was no unique detail to the new hall - their temporary salvation. It lay sprawled out, equally as battered and neglected as every other corner of the building that they'd seen so far. He kept cautious eyes on the open windows, watching as the rain went on undisturbed as the lightning flashed, momentarily casting the island in a brilliant white light.

"Can you hear that?" he heard Ada say behind him.

Leon turned to her. "What?"

He didn't know what she meant at first, not until a piece of the outer wall exploded inward, and then his world was a swirling mass of formless shapes and snarls as his body left the ground. The sounds of the wall being demolished only registered faintly as he hit the floor a few feet away, landing close to Ada who he would have seen firing off multiple rounds if not for his struggle to take in breath. Everything stopped for just a moment, as the monster tore its way through the small window, ripping a sizable chunk of the wall with it, sending a spray of water and brick into the hall as its chest was pierced with bullets. Leon managed to get his wind back just before the creature reached them, but at some point during his fall he must have dropped his gun, and didn't have time to locate it before the thing's humongous hand swung through the air toward Ada.

He rose to his hands and knees as Ada back-flipped, avoiding the attack that would have claimed her life, her body turning in the air with the phenomenal weightlessness of a professional gymnast. Leon brought his body up, bringing his H&K mp5 to bare and firing off a several shots, all finding their mark, tunneling their way through the monster's head until its attack was finaly broken. A gargling groan escaped its mouth as it swayed on stubby legs before falling backwards, crashing heavily to the ground.

Once it was dead Leon went about locating his handgun; within a couple of seconds he saw it, a streak of light falling across the floor from where it had tumbled. Grateful that the impact hadn't damaged the torch, he quickly retrieved the weapon and rejoined Ada, still feeling a little woozy from the collision that sent him sprawling. His arms ached like hell, and were probably covered with bruises by now.

"You ok, Leon?"

"Better than him," he said, setting his sub down and taking off his jacket, tossing it aside. "Thanks."

"Well you _will_ get yourself into these messes."

"Look who's talking," Leon replied with a shake of his head, and then he turned to the window, which had now grown by more than twice its original size. "That thing was really desperate to get at us."

Ada looked toward the body of the creature, and Leon thought he saw a measure of amused pity in her eyes. "I guess intelligence is somewhat absent once these bloodhounds lock onto their prey."

"Ok, we need to find a safer place than this." Leon said, shouldering his sub machinegun.

"If I'm honest handsome, I don't think there _is_ a safe place on this island. And I don't think either of us has the time or the ammunition to kill all of them."

_That's the biggest understatement of the day._

Of course Ada was right; there was now way they could take down all of those things. They'd be ripped to pieces within minutes in an open conflict. He knew he must have killed a few with the grenade, but he had his doubts that it would be enough to scare the others into retreat, not when there was fresh meat to be had. For the moment the others hadn't made an appearance, which meant that Leon and Ada might have the opportunity they needed to bale out of the hotel and run for the Wilforn estate. Ada seemed to know where it was, so Leon was more than happy to follow her lead on this. Getting there wouldn't be difficult, unless those things went after them, and something told him that they would be much faster on the ground than either himself or Ada.

"We need to make a break for Wilforn's house."

Ada raised an eyebrow. "Easier said than done. Those things are everywhere."

"We've got to try anyway."

"Our only chance is to get out of the building unseen, Leon."

_Wait a minute!_

"Ada," Leon had no idea how he hadn't picked up on this sooner. "Listen."

"To what?" she said, for a moment she didn't seem to understand, but Leon saw the realisation hit home hard a second later. "Why can't we hear them anymore?"

Leon didn't know how long it had been since the beasts had silenced, but aside from the storm outside there were no other sounds, nothing but the rain, and the sound of their own breathing. They couldn't have killed the entire group when that grenade went off, it just wouldn't have been possible. They were out there, Leon knew this, and from the look on Ada's perspired face he knew that she did too.

"What are they doing?" she asked.

"I've got no idea."

Ada raised her gun, keeping a sharp eye on her surroundings. "They could have stormed this place by now. What are they waiting for?"

As they continued to listen for any approaching threat, Leon wondered how many times Hunnigan had tried to contact him by now. The last time he'd called in was just before he'd commandeered the boat. He'd also made a point of ditching his communications equipment as he was setting the trap for the thing that attacking him on the shore. Of all the deceitful things he was capable of, this was an all time low for Leon. Hunnigan would have already contacted his back up by now. They'd been ordered to Nantes in the west of France to link up with him, so it wouldn't be long before they picked up his trail to the island. His time was running out; this dangerous gamble he'd decided on could very well finish him. _What are you doing this for?_ He asked himself. _Just how far are you willing to go for her? Honestly?  
_

In essence this was no different than all those years ago; Katherine had consumed all his boyhood thoughts just as Ada Wong did now, and just like Ada he didn't know when to walk away. Of course, they were astronomically different in terms of the stakes that were stacked against him; the danger he now faced was of a phenomenally separate breed to his life as a child. But in a sense they were similar, and an aspect of what happened that day – all those years ago – had been the foundation of who he was now. That was the day he was made.

"Leon!"

He saw it, just in time to duck from the head sized chunk of debris that nearly rendered him faceless, passing over him at an alarming speed before hitting the wall at other end of the hall. Leon recovered from the surprise attack quickly, and looked to see Ada training her gun down the hall, and when he saw the shape walking towards them he mimicked her action without a thought. Both their lights catching the image of the figure coming for them, but it wasn't what they'd been expecting.

A man, if it could be called such (Leon wasn't so sure) was only fifth-teen feet away. He was bald, his head patterned with black pulsating veins that ran over horrifically pale skin. Dead black eyes watched them from a sunken corpse-like face, its mouth small and twitching constantly. Leon saw that its upper body was fastened with what appeared to be a straightjacket; the entire picture was one of pure insanity, and it made Leon wonder what else Wilforn had lying around on the island.

"What the hell?" he whispered, as the thing stopped moving, just standing perfect still.

"This… thing, must be keeping those creatures away, somehow." Ada said, taking careful aim.

Leon heard the slither of anger that escaped Ada's words; she was trying so hard to contain herself, but he'd picked up on her frustration more than once already. It was obvious that Wilforn had picked them up by now, which had no doubt set Ada's plans back, if not destroyed them completely. He watched as she fired a single round at the thing's skull, a shot that would have killed a human being. Leon had seen countless blights against nature in his time, and had fought against most of them, but what he saw happen next sent a jolt of disbelief through his body so strong that he was certain it must have been some trick, some hallucination.

The bullet stopped, mere inches from the man's head, floating in mid air for several seconds before falling, creating a faint ping on the floor before rolling off between it's feet. _That's impossible. I didn't just see that._ But it _did_ happen, he'd seen the whole thing; a perfect picture that had wedged into his brain and would never leave. However fantastic it had been, it didn't make the act any less real. The man – the creature – had just stopped the bullet without even touching it. And then Straightjacket began advancing on them again, it's lips still moving with their odd twitch, only as it drew closer Leon thought he heard the repeated clicks of it's teeth connecting painfully hard with each other.

Leon's sidearm was holstered, and bringing about his mp5 once again, he squeezed the trigger. His training took over as only one thought ran laps through his mind, and that was to make an end of the immediate threat. But in the sudden blur of events, as the bullets travelled towards their intended target, a broken piece of the wall was lifted into the air, blocking the deadly path of several shots. A couple managed to get through, impacting into the thing's shoulder, but it didn't stop, and the rubble remained unhindered in its course towards Ada. Leon saw it happen in his head, watching as the events played out with startling clarity, creating a sea of panic that almost cast him away as the projectile was about to land. And then he acted, shoving her aside and taking the blow himself; he didn't have time to register the burning red pain that followed as his body was sent through the closest window, his weight tearing through vines and weeds as he fell. The last thing he heard was Ada cry out his name.

* * *

_I hope you all liked this chapter. I'll try and get the next one out as soon as I'm able, in the meantime please comment and let me know what you think; its the views and opinions of you readers that keep me going. Bye for now._


	12. Chapter 12

_Finally posted another one. Took me long enough I know, and I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Hope you all like this latest chapter._

* * *

**Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 12**

_Leon! Why the hell did he do that?_

Ada didn't even have the extra seconds necessary to see where Leon had landed. She darted just in time, barely missing several pieces of brick and wood as they came spinning towards her. She rolled off to the left, trying her best not to panic at the sudden alteration to the events of the night, but considering what had just happened, it was proving harder than expected. Now the chaos within her, the war between her head and her heart was ravaging her insides, her sense of professionalism slowly crumbling away.

She fired off several shots, in the hope that it could only stop one bullet at a time. But the thing defied the laws of nature yet again; not a single shot found its mark, each stopping inches from the abomination just as they did before, it's invisible power taking hold of them. The bullets dropped to the floor seconds later. _Telekinesis,_ she thought. _Wilforn's creating telekinetic soldiers._ She had never seen anything like this before; coming across a variety of lab-grown grotesques and infected horrors couldn't begin to prepare the mind for this kind of ability. She'd heard stories in the past, of people trying to harness such skill, but never to any level of success. Even her own employers hadn't told her about this. _Apparently I know all I need to know. Bastards._ What she'd been sent to retrieve was something of a different nature completely.

She didn't have anywhere near the amount of time required to think on this new and startling development, ducking from another piece of flying debris before spinning in the opposite direction, running at full speed down the hall, toward a turning she'd noticed before. It went off to the right, and would hopefully grant her some cover for the moment, maybe giving her enough time to think of a solution. She didn't like fleeing like this; there was no way for her to know if Leon was ok – if he was still alive. She pictured the scene, with Leon lying somewhere below, injured and in need of help, and as much as she hated the thought she knew that if she didn't put some distance between herself and the Straightjacket that she would shortly follow him.

_He isn't dead,_ she told herself. _He's survived worse. He'll be fine._

She turned the corner, her skin gleaming with a fresh coat of sweat, racing toward the far end of the hall. Numerous rooms lined the wall on her right, but she didn't dare trap herself by taking any so called refuge within them. Up ahead she saw a lifeline, a balcony leading back out into the rainy night. Though whether it was safe to venture back out was another story all together. The creatures previously on their tail were no doubt still outside, waiting for her. But she couldn't pay any heed to her internal warnings now. She was fully intent on getting out of the rotting carcass of the hotel and reaching the Wilforn estate as soon as possible. She didn't see any way of killing the creature without delaying her mission anymore than she already had, and as much as it pained her to leave without checking on Leon, she knew that her mission would ultimately fall to pieces if she didn't. _I can't just leave him like that, without knowing if he's alive or dead. He deserves more than that. But if I fail here . . . _

Checking over her shoulder as she ran, she saw that the creature hadn't emerged around the corner yet. It had seemed slow in its approach when it first appeared, so she was certain she could out run it. But as she moved closer to the balcony, she cursed herself, knowing what she had to do first; the action she was about to take in checking on Leon could very well see her torn to pieces. She had to know if he was alive. After that she'd run straight for the Wilforn house, and no power on the planet would stop her. As long as the government agent was still breathing then that would be enough for her; after all, she owed him, even if she hadn't necessarily required help at the time.

She was almost at the balcony, ignoring the deadly crunch of her boots against the unsteady boards. But something made her come to a sliding stop, and all the blood was abruptly yanked from her face, her skin turning to ice at the sight of the man who had just emerged from a small stairway ten feet ahead of her. He strolled out into the hall, his gloved fists clenched tight, his dark suit seemingly untouched by the storm, his blonde hair kept in that same way she'd seen many times. He turned his head toward her; his eyes told her nothing, and as always were hidden beneath his dark shades, but the grin that swelled across his face told her everything. Wesker was here, and now he'd found her.

Ada began to back away, having no alternate route in sights; the Straightjacket was behind her, and Wesker was in front of her. Wesker could heal from any shot she managed to hit him with (she'd seen him do so before) but she grasped on to the hope, that maybe she could delay him just long enough for her to make her escape. Maybe.

A tidal wave of anxiety and anger ran through her system, flattening every logical thought she tried to build. If she didn't think of something quickly, then she was as good as dead. "Wesker," she said, raising her gun as she fought to calm herself. "Stay back!"

"Miss Wong," he responded, the smile never leaving as he slowly advanced towards her. "I've finally found you."

"I told you to stay back."

"Or you'll do what?"

Ada smiled, aiming between his eyes. "Come any closer and you'll find out sweetie."

One of Wesker's eyebrows came into view, rising above his shades as he brought his hands together, cracking his knuckles. He continued his slow approach, his intentions crystal clear. "You didn't think you'd evade me forever did you. I should have known you would betray me; your neck was always destined to be crushed between my fingers."

_He's not going to stop me. He won't stop me! I can slow him down. I have to._

"Sorry Wesker, but my neck is staying where it is." And then she pulled the trigger.

* * *

Leon didn't know how the fall hadn't rid him of his consciousness, or flat out ended his days on good old planet earth, at least not in the first few seconds of landing. He felt stinging, in almost every corner of his body, sharp edges from broken glass dug shallowly into his back. Rain patted against his face as he forced himself to sit up, the weight of every encounter pulling at his muscles with eager hands, intending to drag him back to the ground and keep him there. At a close inspection of his chest, Leon saw the gash, fairly deep but thankfully not too bad, a tear in his T-shirt revealed that the bleeding wasn't going to be a problem. He took a deep breath, considering himself fortunate; from the initial pain he'd felt it should have been much worse. _Damn it. How many times am I going to be this lucky?_

Leon let out a groan as he lifted himself up, hearing the blood drenched howling all around him, the sounds alone made his head swell with unwelcome sights of what might happen if he stayed put. He realised he had fallen onto a decaying old balcony, just on the floor below the window he'd plunged out of. He looked around for his sub, but couldn't see it anywhere. It was gone, he thought. It must have fallen to the ground somewhere beneath him and was now lost. Losing it wouldn't do him any favours, but it couldn't be helped; at least he still had his sidearm, which was a hell of a lot better than nothing at all. He had to move quickly, because Ada would still be up there with that creature – whatever it was. He had to get to her now.

He'd been in the process of making his way to the doorway when he saw them down below, gathered on the soaking ground. Thunder roared for it's thousandth time, the rain continued it's heavy fall, landing on the matted fur of the numerous beasts as they stood below; an army of them, hundreds or more he thought, snarling and growling, their huge clawed hands grasping upwards. But they didn't try to come for him, in fact they seemed locked in place. It appeared that something far more complex was going on; the creature upstairs wanted them for itself, and it was somehow keeping those monsters at bay so it could sink its own metaphorical teeth in.

Someone had most definitely been alerted to them being on the island, and it seemed that this unseen someone was committed to doing everything they could to protect themselves. They wanted to make sure that neither of them reached the estate. _What the hell are they hiding, besides the freak-show we've already seen?_

Leon's questions fell away from the front of his mind as gun fire rang out, coming from somewhere above him. Ada was still breathing, and probably fighting for her life. He turned away from the mass of freaks below and bolted through the door. He sped through the small hotel room, a once pleasant space that now reeked of death and loneliness, but didn't really enter Leon's vision as he more or less flew through it. He ignored everything he felt, focussing on backing Ada up in any way he could. He could feel the pain later; there would be plenty of time for that if he lived through the night.

As he came out into the hall he found that he had no idea where he was; wherever he was now standing, he'd not come across it before. He'd been mapping the route out since entering the building (not that it really mattered with so many collapsed areas) but now his system was scrabbled, turned to shredded chaos. He was on the far right of the hall, its crumbled and deathly passage turned off on his left. Leon jogged that way, his chest burning a little as he took short breaths, as if tiny shards of glass went rattling through his lungs.

When he came to the turning he stopped quickly, his hands clenching hard when he saw that the floor had completely fallen through; if there were a way upstairs in this area then it hadn't been accessible for some time. And now Leon was well and truly screwed.

"Damn it!" Leon looked about for a moment, fighting for a solution, his forehead running with an icy perspiration. "Come on genius," he said. "Think of something." And then it came to him, and thankfully it hadn't taken long. _I must be out of my mind._

Upholstering his handgun, Leon flashed its light across the large cavernous gap where the floor used to be. A more or less intact staircase sat a few metres ahead. He then turned his eyes back toward what he'd just noticed a few seconds ago, but it may not have been all that promising: a section of flooring was still attached to the wall on his right, maybe a foot and a half wide, trailing towards the stairs like an old reluctant bridge. He didn't like the odds as they were grossly stacked against him. However he thought that maybe, just maybe, if he kept his back to the wall and if the wood held, then he might just make it without a fuss. It was a long short and he was aware of the danger, but Ada was upstairs with the engineered nightmare and he couldn't think of anything else. This was the only way.

He placed his gun back in his holster, wanting to be ready to grab at anything available if what remained of the floor panels decided to join their long awaiting friends. _Well, no guts no glory I guess. _He stepped lightly on the wood, wincing at the sound of it creaking away, apparently much louder than it should have been. Leon held his breath as he inched across the tiny space, looking over the blackness of the chasm, not worrying about looking down; he couldn't see much of anything without his flashlight anyway. All he had was the minor benefit of his adjusted vision, coupled with his sense of touch; not what he would have liked but at this point he'd take what he could get.

Leon was pretty certain that he had never gone through this much hassle for Katherine-whatever-her-last-name-was back in school. He had made the comparison earlier because in essence they were fairly similar; the danger factor in this case was the big difference. He wondered for a moment, as he stepped sideways against the wall, if he was truly stupid for going to such lengths for a woman who in truth he barely knew. _Cut that shit out. You're here now, so either help her or don't. And it's not like you're going to turn your back on her is it? You hypocrite._ A few more nerve wracking moments and he was there, stepping onto the stairs.

The wood almost crunched under his boots as he ascended the stairway, his steps apparently enough to shake his footing and keep him a little off balance as the hotel continued its slow descent into death. He ignored all of it, every warning that the place was going down around him as he made his way up; the image of Ada's lifeless body danced through his brain like a bleeding marionette.

He took a right at the top as the stairs curled around and continued up again. Leon crossed the distance as quickly as he could. And then he'd made it, turning left into another hallway. He stopped dead in tracks, lifting his gun up and aiming it towards what he was now seeing, what his eyes were now harshly greeted with. His anger came bursting through to the surface without a struggle. He had wondered when this moment would come, and now here it was, coldly embracing like a hangman's noose.

"Why hello there, Mr Kennedy," Phantom stood there, a few feet away from Leon, in the middle of the hallway; a razor sharp grin present as he stared back at him. "I was wondering when we'd run into each other again."

"Phantom!" Leon's finger stroked the trigger, ready to fire. "Where's Ada?"

Leon almost didn't notice the gun being pointed in his direction, the gun that King held in a single hand. Leon's gun light revealed its detail well enough: it was Ada's Springfield.

"Where is she?" Leon said. "God damn it, I wont ask you again!"

"Ada?" Phantom said, almost a sigh. His smile never wavered, and as lightning flashed again it cast an eerie white sheet across the man's face, making him look like a gleeful skeleton. "She kicked it, kicked the bucket, bit the dust," and then he chuckled. "Not that those fraises make much sense, but you get the idea don't ya luv?"

Leon felt the grinding of his own teeth, his trigger finger began to squeeze by itself. "You're lying to me. Sh-she's not dead. What have you done with her?"

"Didn't I just tell you?" Phantom said. "I killed that bothersome bitch. And now you're going to join her." He pulled the trigger, but to Leon's surprise Ada's gun clicked empty.

Leon pulled his trigger; a ray of hope that this night might be the killer's last beamed through as he fired off two shots. His gun ran dry right after. Phantom rolled to the side, avoiding both bullets. He came to a crouching halt, reaching to his belt for another clip. Leon rushed, doing the same thing, but he hadn't lowered his gun before Phantom grasped a mag and knew that the son of a bitch was going to get there first; he'd be firing off rounds before Leon could stop him. Without a second thought Leon did the only thing he could: he threw his empty gun at Phantom before he could raise his loaded weapon. Using his now boiling fury, Leon launched himself into an unbelievable run, closing the distance between them as Phantom dodged the projectile.

He closed in, grasping his enemy's arm, twisting it away from the man and slamming his other hand into the gun, sending it clattering to the ground. Phantom's elbow caught him in the face a split second later, but he recovered quickly, lashing out with jabs and crosses. He felt like beating the man to death if he could, or a least senseless enough that he wouldn't resist an interrogation as to Ada's whereabouts.

Phantom stepped back to avoid the attacks, almost catching a kick to the face, but back flipping away from the strike just in time. _What the… _Leon hadn't seen that coming. He stood still for a moment, his fists raised, ready to take the assault further. But the move that Phantom had just pulled confused him a little; he hadn't seen the man fight that way during the apartment attack. And the way the killer stood; his stance - with slightly raised and open hands, placed in the centre and pointing towards Leon, one hand a little behind the other in what looked like a Wing Chun position – was completely out of place. Leon had seen the fighting discipline before, and it didn't fit with the image of the lunatic standing in front of him. It felt just… wrong somehow.

These details didn't – couldn't matter. Whatever it was Leon didn't have the time or patience to think these things through; if he gave the bastard even the slightest window of opportunity it could be the end. He prepared himself as Phantom approached, an equal share of hateful intent etched into his features. He shot forward, sending a flurry of straight short punches in the direction of Leon's face; his fists pumping forward rapidly like bullets from a machine-gun. Leon darted back, then coming forward again, throwing a combination in return; Phantom dodged, sidestepping the punches before shoving Leon back, lashing out with a kick that sought to claim his head. Leon ducked, saving his himself from a spinning kick and a nice concussion, but the movement of the assassin was swift and direct, and Leon didn't have chance to guard his stomach from a second kick. It drilled into his gut, forcing the wind out of his body as he staggered backwards.

Leon fought against the sensation of pain, finding it strange how graceful Phantom's moves were. He had incredible combat skills it was true; he was fast in his movements, but there was a straight forwardness to them that was no longer present. His attacks were still quick and powerful but their vicious edge wasn't quite as overpowering. And his agility was, for reasons unknown, more impressive than ever, as if he'd dropped a decent load of weight in the space of a day.

He didn't know what the hell was happening, but he wasn't planning to let the guy walk away from him again. This encounter would be their last, and Phantom would get what he no doubt had coming his entire life. Ada had seemed to hate him, so Leon would be doing everyone a justice by killing the piece of shit. _If she's hurt because of you!_ Leon went forward, his eyes tearing away at his opponent in his furious advance. His concern for Ada had stirred his anger even more, knowing that she could be hurt. And despite the knowledge that he didn't really owe her anything anymore the very thought of her death shook him even more than the people in his apartment. It was awful to feel that way, he knew this, and it scared him to death at what he might be capable of.

* * *

Ada didn't know what to think. She almost had to physically fight back her surprise when Wesker stumbled backwards; hurt by a kick she'd just delivered to his stomach. The image of his discomfort had vividly made its way to Ada's sight, forcing her to question the situation as he recovered. Something was wrong and she didn't know what it was; lack of knowledge could kill, and Ada didn't like being kept in the dark.

How could she have hurt someone so enhanced, she wondered? Wesker was far more powerful than any human being. The blow shouldn't have been able to do what it did. _Maybe it was just luck?_ She thought that there could have been any number of reasons, but before she could settle on one Wesker charged towards her, a terrible expression wrapped across his face. And she froze for just a moment. Somewhere inside her now panicked mind she thought that that was all it was: she had just gotten lucky. If she weren't careful this old hotel – if it could ever be called such ever again – would be her burial ground. Even if she managed to land another good shot against him she knew that a similar attack from Wesker would well and truly break her in half.

Her gun wasn't very far away, just a couple of metres behind her, but she'd never have time to get it. Wesker attacked again. Ada was consumed by more shock as the blonde sociopath threw punches her way; she blocked and avoided them as best she could. But the thing that really took her by the brain and literally boggled her mind was that the force of the blows against her defensive forearms should have been shear agony. Considering the physical strength of her attacker her arms should have been useless now.

_What in the name of… what's wrong with him? Have I overestimated him all these years? Did I ever really have anything to fear from him?_

One of Wesker's punches got through, colliding hard with her jaw and sending her crashing against the wall. She shook her head, trying to free herself from the sudden daze. The fact that it didn't do more damage made her count her blessings. Ada recovered, ducking an oncoming elbow, watching as smashed away at pieces of rotting plaster in the wall. At the same time as she kicked out, taking his legs out from under him, putting him on the ground a second later. Ada didn't pause, pulling a small knife from her vest sheath and bringing it down towards his throat; her mind's eye seeing the life drawing out of him along with his blood, and the sight wasn't unpleasant to her. But it never happened that way, much to her annoyance; his hands reached up, grabbed her wrists, the blade ceasing only inches from his throat. Ada could see the strain on his face for a moment, as he slowly forced the knife away. She then felt a searing pain as he twisted her knife hand, forcing her to roll away. She came to a steady stop, but she only turned back just in time, just as Wesker's foot hammered into the side of her face, so hard that her body almost twirled from the force. She landed in tangled heap on the ground as stars floated through her eyes and her head felt three tons too heavy._ Now that hurt_.

Ada cursed herself as she fumbled for a moment, her hands reaching for her knife. But there wasn't time; she was already being lifted off the ground, her body flowing with pain as she was thrown against the wall. She had just enough time to take a single breath before she was forced back against it; Wesker had her knife now and was driving it forward. Ada's arms felt like led waits, and she wondered if the effects of the kick would ware off in time for her to break free. She raised her hands to his, and now the roles were reversed. Ada was now the one struggling to avoid a blade lodged in her neck. Her arms ached horribly as she fought back, but there was a trickle of fear dripping into her at this moment, telling her that maybe her time was finally up.

It was then that she noticed it, noticed the hate in Wesker's eyes – his eyes: she thought that his pretentious black sun glasses must have fallen off at some point, because now bright blue eyes glared back at her, eyes that she'd never seen on Wesker before.

She realised that she'd sensed it earlier – at least what she had picked up on in part, but didn't want to believe it – during the beginning of their fight: she had never seen Wesker without his shades on before, never in all the time they had worked together; he always kept his cold stare hidden, probably from everyone, but the eyes she now saw were not his eyes. Those eyes, the ones she knew well, pouring with rage as the knife came closer. They were Leon's.

"You're going to pay," Wesker said. "You're a dead man. Phantom!"

"What– " Ada didn't have time to speak; the tip of the blade had just dug into her skin. She couldn't hold it off much longer.

It never was Wesker, she thought. Of course it wasn't. The knife would already have ended her if it really were him. And he wouldn't have needed a weapon in the first place, like the gun he'd pulled out of nowhere before attacking her, after she'd run out of ammo. _Leon. How is it even possible?_ As she tried to focus all of her strength on forcing the knife away she began to see it; the image of her enemy was slowly peeling away, shifting and changing, until it eventually faded completely. Wesker was replaced by a very pissed off looking government agent, a man with a blood lust in his face, an expression that she'd never seen on him before. It was almost frightening to see such gushing hate on Leon's face. He had called her Phantom. He was seeing Phantom – trying to kill who he thought was his mortal adversary, and Ada couldn't bring forth the intellect needed to figure out why this had happened. Her time was running out, as the man she loved was about to kill her.

* * *

_Sorry to leave it like that, well actually I'm not because for some reason I like cliffhangers lol. Let me know what you guys think. And sorry again for the late update. Bye for now._


	13. Chapter 13

_I know, another quick update. Hope you all like it; I wasn't too sure about some parts of the chapter but I think I've left these updates for far too long. Again, I'm sorry for that._**  
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* * *

**Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed **

**Chapter 13**

For just a second, a terrible second that stretched on for far too long, Ada had no idea what to do. Knowing now that she had been tricked into thinking her enemy had finally found her, and the revelation that it was in fact Leon S Kennedy. This knowledge sapped at the cunning intellect she usually possessed, biting into it like the fangs of a vampire and drawing out a gushing river of thoughts. It drew all of her energy away as she steadily lost the battle to keep her own knife from dipping further into her neck. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, and still she couldn't think straight, let alone act.

It was only now that she truly understood just how much Daniel King had gotten to Leon, with all the wicked precision he was known for. Leon had tried to convince her, and most likely himself too, that killing King was for the protection of others, and for the sake of those who died in his apartment. But she hadn't been fooled by his words and she never would be. He wanted revenge; she had seen this cold hard fact dripping off of every word, every glance, every gesture. And now he thought - no, he was positive - that the man he wanted dead was right in front of him, and his convinction to the situation couldn't be more clear to her.

_How can I make him realise what he's doing,_ she thought? _I've__ got to do something or he's going to kill me!_

Her body was suddenly working again. She wasted no time; lifting one leg, she planted her knee into his groin. Leon let out a loud cry, his attack loosing force instantly, enabling Ada to push the blade in a safer direction. A brief sting bit at her skin as the knife scraped her momentarily. She knew she was bleeding, but it wasn't bad and more importantly it didn't matter now. She was free, driving her fist into his head hard enough to send him reeling back, giving her the chance to step into the centre of the hall. He still had her knife in his hand and she needed space to move. _Forget it. You broke free now get out of here and get to the Wilforn house. Leon's safe, that's what you wanted to find out and you've done it._

Every inch of her mind urged her, screamed at her, to simply get away from him and head for her mission target. Now that she knew Leon had survived the fall there was nothing stopping her from leaving the building and continuing with her objective. She guessed now that the beast that attacked them before created the illusions. The Straightjacket. Obviously whatever Wilforn was working on involved enhancing the mind to the point where it could become a deadlier weapon than any witnessed before. The regular B.O.W's were simply to guard the island, but they were now obsolete in the face of this new and lethal threat.

Leon wasn't playing around; he was readying himself to attack again. Ada wanted to run, to leave him to his own reasons for being on the island, but she couldn't. She froze. Abandoning Leon in his current state felt wrong in ways that she no longer thought she believed in. This frightened her. How could he spin her head the way he did, without having to even try? The power the agent had over her both scared and angered her beyond words.

"Leon," she said, unable to hear the pleading in her own voice. "Wake up."

He came forward, thrusting the knife at her throat. She quickly sidestepped, avoiding strikes that would have sliced open her windpipe like warm butter. Her indecision was crippling her however, and she didn't know how much longer this confrontation could last. She dodged as Leon followed up with more attacks, each one only just missing her as she battled with herself, trying to work out what she was going to do. Her thoughts came crashing to a stop when she grunted loudly, an impact from Leon's boot sending her to the floor. Gasping for air, she pushed herself to roll backwards, coming back onto her feet before he could press his advantage.

"Leon, stop!" she yelled between breaths, her sweat and rain soaked hair sticking and stretching across her cheeks as she cried out. "It's not Phantom. It's me."

"Where's Ada?" Leon barked.

"I _am_ Ada," she said. "Get a hold of yourself. Snap out of it now!"

Leon grimaced, coming at her again. Ada couldn't let this go on; she'd lost too much time already and the clock was running down faster with every minute she wasted. If Leon wouldn't see her for what she really was, if he wouldn't awaken to the truth of their predicament – of the nightmare around them, then she had to try and put him down. No easy task considering the training he possessed.

Ada charged into Leon just as he brought his knife arm forward. She dodged to the right, leaping at the very last minute, her arm folding in as she brought it down. Her elbow impacted off the top of his head with incredible force, maybe more than she'd intended. The second her feet touched the ground she went low, grabbing for one of his unsteady legs and tackling him, flipping him onto his back. Ada raced to straddle his lap, confident that the blow to his head would have sent him into the land of sleep; Leon's reaction was unexpected, and so fast she hadn't prepared for it. He wrapped his legs around her waist as he lay there, tightening his grip with his thighs to the point where she could barely breath, yanking her down to his chest. And he still had the knife, bringing it up towards her as his glazed but steady eyes burned into hers. Her hands caught his just in time, before the knife could penetrate just above her Kevlar. She was running out of options and Leon's anger had given him enough strength to outlast her. Within a few seconds the cold metal was going to drive its way deep beneath her collarbone, and then everything would be over. A wasted collection of years where everything she'd ever fought for and believed in amounted to absolutely nothing at all; and it would all be because of the one person she couldn't bring herself to hurt. Not anymore.

"L-Leon," she said, straining, fighting a futile battle. "Please. Listen to me. See me. S-see the fffucking truth Leon!"

"This is for Ada!" Leon said, his voice becoming a raspy growl as he forced the knife closer.

Ada cried out as an inch length of sharp steel dipped into her, sending dripping pearls of red onto Leon's T-shirt. "Leon, stop. D-don't, Leon I… aaggghhh! W-wait. _LEEEOOOOON!_"

* * *

Leon saw it, his gratitude at being able to finally make an end of Phantom ceasing the moment the form on top of him changed. The image became distorted, rippling and morphing, shifting into a smaller form; the agony stricken face of Ada Wong replaced it, with searing tearful eyes staring down at him. Her face was full of desperation and dread, driving Leon's contempt into near extinction as he saw an unhealthy sized portion of a knife buried in her flesh. It was a knife that _he_ was holding.

"What the– "

Ada pulled herself away as Leon's arms when limp. He watched in near horror as she went down to one knee, clutching at her bleeding chest wound. She looked back at him, and despite her obvious discomfort he could see the mountainous wave of relief that swelled over her. He felt his body beginning to shake, at the knowledge – the reality – that he had almost killed Ada. The facts belting him across the face like an overenthusiastic hand, slapping him into his own mind once again.

A horrifying guilt gripped at him as he spoke, gazing back at her with water in his eyes. "Ada?"

"Leon," she said, her chest visibly rising and falling hard as the tension left her body. "Are you ok now?"

Leon wasn't sure at first that he'd heard her correctly. "Am I… am I ok?" he was astonished. "Ada what happened?"

He watched her as he began to rise, seeing her wince harshly as she held a hand over her chest. _What the hell did I just do? _He thought. _Oh god! She's bleeding because of me. _He dropped the blade; the metallic ping it created was drowned out by his own self-loathing as he stepped towards her. She made no attempt to retreat.

"Shit," he said as he leaned down, helping her to her feet. "I stabbed you."

"Its not that deep," she replied, removing her hand, allowing him to see the bloody tear just above her vest. "See. I'll be fine."

Leon held her gently by the arms as she looked up into his eyes, the murky jade glimmering within her own, thriving with an emotion that he also didn't believe he was seeing. Lightning went off outside again, flashing through a nearby window. It blanketed Ada's skin in an almost blinding white, revealing every detail of her angelic face and the specks of blood and bruises that sat upon it. She looked like a porcelain goddess in the illumination of the flash; the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. And he'd almost snuffed her life out.

"I think that Straightjacket son of bitch was making us see things," she said. "It made us see the people we hate most Leon."

Leon heard the words, and maybe even understood them to a degree. But for the life of him they wouldn't sink in past the wretchedness he felt as he saw the wounds he'd inflicted. "Ada. You could have died; it was my fault."

* * *

Ada couldn't help the wave of emotions that tore through her at this moment, seeing the look that the agent was wearing was a terrible thing, so terrible that her own eyes filled with tears that she couldn't resist. She slowly pressed herself against him, allowing his arms to fold around her back as she lifted her hands, cupping the sides of Leon's face. She couldn't have ended his life – could never have killed him no matter how hard she fought to justify her presence on the island, or the mission that she'd struggled with for so long. She loved him, and she knew he loved her back.

"Its alright Leon," she whispered, then placing her lips against his.

She was overcome with a building rise of joy and despair at their sudden kiss, a kiss that she had instigated, and that Leon had followed enthusiastically. Her blood was on fire as they stood, wrapped in each other. Electricity sparked through to her fingertips in that single moment of ecstasy that a part of Ada wished would never end. She would have had it frozen in time if she could, and as warm wetness rolled down her cheeks she knew it was impossible. The feeling that ran rushing currents through her body every day was as forbidden as any tragedy she'd read about. An impossibility that wouldn't waver as long as the path she'd chosen demanded her attention. It was the way things were, and she was truly sorry to Leon for that.

Ada released his lips from her own, the shear smack of regret hitting her without mercy as she kept her hands on his face. She could see the disappointment tugging away at him, and she wished that she could hold onto him for longer, hold the man she'd been through hell for and just forget everything else. Everything she'd felt for Leon S Kennedy over the years had been suppressed. Until now. Seeing him in Spain after six long years made her understand how much she still wanted him, maybe more than ever.

"Leon," she said. "I'm so sorry. My mission has to– "

Leon cut her off, reaching to the ground and grabbing the knife again with blinding speed. Ada felt her eyes gape as he did this, fearful that his condition hadn't worn off completely. But as he rose and threw the weapon she realised that this wasn't the case. The knife spun through the air, everything dragging to a state of slow motion as it passed over her shoulder, plunging into something, something that started screaming a second later.

Ada saw the Straightjacket, standing maybe ten feet from her, just near the turning she came around earlier. It had been watching the entire time, watching and waiting as it played its telepathic game with the both of them. And now Leon was running. Ada watched as he sped towards the creature and was surprised when he ran right passed his gun. Straightjacket cried out with a sound that she thought was as close to outrage as it could muster. Using its powers once again, it flung bricks and pieces of wood in the agent's direction as he went in for the kill. Leon appeared to be overcome with a recklessness that shocked Ada so much that it took her a few seconds to retrieve both of their weapons. This time there would be no retreat, not until the bastard who had plagued their thoughts with phantoms was dead.

* * *

Leon darted from left to right; debris came flying by, missing him by mere fractions as he closed the gap between him and the creature. He was focussed on one thing right now; everything else could wait. Even the kiss, which had dazzled him at the time was momentarily forgotten.

When he got within two metres he dropped to the ground, sliding across the floor as a projectile shot over him. Coming to a stop in front of Straightjacket, Leon ripped the knife free from the creature's chest. The howling that followed gave him enough time to grab their tormentor, rapping his arms tightly around its smaller body and throwing the monster over him in a suplex manoeuvre. He slammed it hard onto its head, all the weight of the creature followed closely, creating a devastating crunch of broken bones. Straightjacket's entire body ploughed into the wooden flooring, ceasing its movements all together.

Leon rose to his feet, taking deep ragged breaths as the adrenaline began to fade a little. It was over; he didn't know how he'd managed to so easily kill the thing, but he had. Straightjacket was dead now.

He turned back to where he'd seen Ada last. And then he was thrown off of his feet, taking to the air until coming to a sudden stop against the wall, bouncing against it in an explosive crash before hitting the ground. He slowly lifted his head, pain threatening to throttle every inch of him as his eyes fought to pierce through a blurry vale, watching as Straightjacket rose to its feet again; it's head twitched repeatedly, hanging at a horrid ankle. Its neck was very much broke. But these things didn't seem to prevent it from standing up on steady legs. It's inhuman glare as it looked toward him could have skinned a person alive, at least that's what Leon thought. He was in the process of trying to stand when he felt an invisible force snatch him by the neck, ridding him of his air supply before he could react further. He struggled against thin air as tiny black dots peppered against his eyes, knowing that there was nothing to pry away from his throat, but the urgency of the moment pushed him to do so anyway. He then did the only thing he could think of; he threw the knife he still held at his would-be murderer.

Sadly this action turned out to be the futile long shot that Leon suspected it would be, his face bulging with redness as the knife stopped, hovering in front of its intended mark. Straightjacket began to slowly turn the blade with its invisible power, aiming it at Leon. He gasped and kicked as this happened, his thoughts beginning to cloud over as his lungs craved much needed oxygen.

_Ada. Don't be shy; join in any time._

Several gunshots rang through the hall, and the telekinetic monster was struck with bullets, punching a handful of holes into its chest. Leon was released as the thing staggered away. He sucked in massive gulps of air as he picked Ada's knife up, stumbling gratefully away toward her as she lowered her Springfield. She regarded him with a quick nod, and then they watched as the screeching agony riddled Straightjacket lost it's footing near one of the windows. An overwhelming feeling of triumph took hold of Leon as it plunged through the window. Falling and falling, hopefully to its death.

Feeling his shoulders slump, Leon tiredly handed Ada her knife. "This yours?"

"Thanks," she replied, accepting it, then handing him his handgun. "Present for you too."

Leon took his sidearm, taking a fresh mag from his belt, ejecting the empty and slamming the new one in place. "Are you ok Ada?"

The raven-haired spy looked down at her stab wound before responding. "I've had better days," she paused, smiling ever so slightly. "Although the kiss was moderately pleasing."

"Moderately?" Leon said. "Well I'll take what I can get I guess."

Ada did something that he'd never seen before at that moment: she smiled. It was a wide and genuine smile that caught him off guard. It was one of the most real expressions he'd ever seen, and he also couldn't help but notice a hint of embarrassment in that look. _Wow. It's official; even after all this time I can still be surprised.__  
_

"Ok," Ada said, her game face returning. "I think we should get moving."

Leon was about to concur, and then his ears were attacked by a swarm of monstrous roars coming from outside the hotel. Hundreds of gut shredding sounds of the most ravenous kind rippled through the very walls all around them. Leon knew what was happening now: Straightjacket's influence on the hordes outside was now broken, and they were coming for them.

* * *

"I think we may have worn out our welcome," Ada said, her eyes darting in all directions. "Leon, follow me."

Ada blocked out the sounds of the beasts that were now loose upon them again, gesturing for Leon to follow her. She hadn't forgotten the balcony at the end of the hall, knowing it was now their only way out of the hellhole they'd managed to trap themselves in. Even as they both ran for the opening Ada could hear the creatures, tearing their way through every window, every doorway and crevice they could find. Ada increased her speed, with Leon right behind her. The balcony was in her sights, only a few metres ahead; they'd have to try and climb down as fast as they could. With the B.O.W's hot on their heels it didn't look good, but at least they had a chance. She thought that a chance was all either of them could hope for.

It felt as if the very foundation of the hotel was now coming down, with so many of the beasts entering all at once; Ada didn't look back but she knew that several had already entered the hallway, and where now running in their direction. They were five feet from freedom when the building shook, is if hit by a large earthquake. Ada was consumed with panic when the balcony ripped from the building, along with the section of the hall they were standing in, tearing chunks of brick and metal away, sending powdered clouds and huge boulders of debris through the air. Ada almost fell over twice as the balcony lurched forward, dipping towards the ground as they stepped onto it.

"No way!" Leon yelled, and she watched as he leapt off of the edge like some crazed extreme sports addict.

Ada did the same, her own fear like a distant memory as she jumped from the balcony; the sinking platform had fallen enough so that the landing wouldn't kill them. But she still considered it one of the most insane manoeuvres she had ever performed, the kind that Leon seemed to be a fan of to no end. Seconds later they came splashing down, trying to take the force away as they hit the ground rolling, tumbling into pools of muddy earth and limp blades of grass. Ada couldn't recall any instant – any moment in her life and eventful career where she had ever been covered in so much filth, but considering her situation she had no time to complain about it.

As soon as they came to a stop they were both up, tearing across the clearing as fast as humanly possible, heading right for the thick woods, towards the Wilforn estate once again. Ada hoped that some of those things died when that portion of the building collapsed, but even now she could hear their calls for the meat of living breathing things. They hadn't lost them yet. Ada's heart wailed against the inside of her chest as she pushed herself harder, wanting to put as much distance between herself and the hotel as she could. It was the healthiest choice; nothing else would see her live through the next hour.

They were almost at the tree line when Ada's ears caught something; there had been so much going on that she hadn't picked up on the sounds until they were passing overhead. When she looked up she saw them, and a new level of stress shot from zero to sixty through her veins. Several black helicopters, passing through the stormy night like a deathly swarm of locus, all heading in the direction of the Wilforn estate. _Wesker's finally here. No, you're not beating me there.  
_

And then Leon vanished from her peripheral, his disappearance followed by a short yelp of surprise. And then he was gone. Ada's eyes shot towards the spot where he'd stepped. All she saw was a large dark patch, and as she moved closer she saw that it was a gaping hole in the dirt. Leon had fallen through it, exiting the turbulent realm of the surface world. At a quick glance back to the hotel Ada realised that the creatures hadn't quite figured out what had happened yet and were not yet coming after them. She quickly fell to her hands and knee at the edge of the opening. If she didn't get Leon out of there in the next few moments they were both dead.

"Leon," she called over the sounds of the storm. A second or two followed, and then she saw his gun-light come to life maybe ten feet below, flickering within a bleak sea of darkness. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm ok," she heard him shout.

Ada took another look back at the hotel. Her mouth gaped as a rush of fear hit her like an oncoming truck. "Leon. Climb up. Get up here now!"

"Wait a minute," he called back. _Wait a minute? Has he forgotten what's happening up here?_ And then he spoke again. "There's a passage down here. Head to the estate; I'll meet you there."

Ada forcefully shook her head. "No. Get up here now."

"There's no time."

"Yes there is," she said, but she knew this wasn't true.

"I'll check the passage out. Just go," Leon replied. "Do what you came to do, Ada. Now run!"

She couldn't wait any longer; the B.O.W's were now heading towards her, maybe forty feet away and closing. Ada hated this; this was the very reason she had spent so much energy to avoid Leon during Spain. Only now her feelings were out for the entire god damn world to see, making her feel weaker than ever because of it. But she couldn't fail; she didn't want her life to cease on such a defeated note. She could never live with that. But that wasn't the only thing she wasn't prepared to live with.

"Alright," she said, standing up, looking down at Leon one last time. "Don't you dare die, understand?"

And then she was running with everything she had left in her, fleeing for everything she was worth. Her muscles burned and cried for rest, her lungs felt like they could burst at any moment. And for several seconds Ada didn't think she would be able to make it to the Wilforn house before she ran out what steam she had left. If she couldn't loose those creatures then it wouldn't make any difference anyway. She just hoped that wherever Leon went that he would do her the biggest favour he'd ever done, and stayed alive.


	14. Chapter 14

_Back again! Hope everyone likes this latest chapter. Its a little bit shorter than most so it didn't really take that long to do. Thankyou to everyone who has reviewed and favourited me so far; it means alot to know that you guys like what I'm doing. Thanks!_**  
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**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 14**

Having all the latest intelligence on the events unfolding on the island was one thing; at least one knew where all the pieces where placed, or most of them at least. However for Patrick Wilforn, being pleased with the news was another thing all together, and he certainly didn't have to be pleased by it. He wasn't pleased by any measure. Not one bit.

He stepped through a narrow passage; his dark jacket unbuttoned, almost flapping behind him as his stride picked up. He felt a minor case of indigestion smouldering, coming to life within his chest, and as it peeked out its rotten head Wilforn posed the question to himself: how in the world could two people kill his prototype and evade the island defences? How could two human beings defy such odds, and at such a rapid pace? They had apparently done all of this and were still intact, still upright and breathing at the end of it – if the cameras were anything to go by, and they were everything. The pair hadn't even lost an arm or two; it turned out that he hadn't credited them enough on their earlier conquest. He'd underestimated them again.

He was going to have to re-work his strategy, and he was going to have to be quick about it; the woman was now currently heading right for his estate on the surface. If she reached the house then it wouldn't be long before she discovered the northern entrance to the underground. The American agent however, had vanished; the surface cameras couldn't detect him anywhere, and he'd not been seen at the mercy of B.O.W's either. One second he was running by the woman's side, and next he was gone. What was he up to, Wilforn thought? He didn't know just yet, but the both of them were talented in what they did and he'd be treading carefully with them from this point on. Wells had already left with the main research data, as well as the research staff as they were far too valuable to let go of; however there were still a few things that Wilforn intended to dispose of before following. But he swore that there would be a final show before the curtain fell for good, and all of his emerging opponents would go with it.

The hordes on the island had failed, making him wonder if those backward bio-weapons had any real potential at all. Each creation under Umbrella displayed fatal flaws that allowed more competent individuals to overcome them, ultimately resulting in the unification of every survivor of each past disaster, to bring the mighty corporation to it's knees. But those mockeries of genetic engineering were the results of the labours of those who couldn't visualise what true power really meant; both he and Spencer had the same ideas all along. Perfection, the maximisation of the human race, and Wilforn's work was coming upon the answers – step by step.

"Sir?" a voice called into his com-link.

Wilforn placed a hand to his ear. "What do you have?"

"Sir," the voice ceased for a moment. "Those helicopters have set down at the northern entrance."

He wasn't bothered by this news, not half as much as he might have been days ago. What was happening might set his plans back, but he had larger recourses away from the island; it wouldn't be long before he reclaimed all that he had lost.

"It doesn't matter now," he said, feeling an intense wave of liberation almost carry him away. "If there are any teams remaining, instruct them to retreat from the northern sector, or not, I really don't care at this point."

"What?" a panicked reply came. "What… what about us?"

The integrity of his isolation had been breached; all that he needed to do know was make sure he reached his next destination. His people working here meant nothing; at this thought he remembered something Spencer once told him, and he had no trouble believing it even then: _There are billions of people on this planet, each one just as unremarkable as the next. A thousand lives are wiped one day, and next day a thousand more are birthed. The hive workers are not important, but the queen always will be. _

"Stay where you are," he replied. "Barricade yourself in there and hope for the best."

"But sir," the voice protested. "We haven't– " after the words abruptly ceased they were replaced by a bright agonising cry.

Wilforn heard other screams coming from that direction as gunshots went off several times, not short bursts but the frantic unloading of clip after clip, as if there was no shortage of ammo and no consideration for aim. He resumed his walk, picking up more speed when the carnage ended in his ear and all was silent apart from his urgent strides. He assumed that creatures from above had just somehow broken their way into the chamber and killed his expendable worker ants. Wilforn was already taking the necessary steps in his head when a voice came through again. This wasn't a voice he knew, but one he could pin the owner to without much effort.

"Mr Wilforn. I'm afraid your people monitoring the surface have fallen to a slight case of permanent breathlessness; I thought about offing them before the choppers showed up - blinding you to the cavalry's approach and all that - but I wanted the knowledge that you're well and truly fucked to sink in first, if you know what I mean."

Wilforn eyes narrowed as he continued on, only now – he wasn't entirely certain why he was this – he was heading back to the surveillance, the very area where he'd just heard a slaughter take place. "I imagine you're the one who breached this building."

There was a very short laugh at the other end, almost like a hum. "I would apologise for that but… ya know?"

"No, I don't," Wilforn turned a corner and continued on. "So you're with Wesker I suppose?" he considered calling for any available reinforcements to his location, but realised that it would only be fruitless at this point. In truth he didn't care enough to bother. "And how did you get past my men so easily?"

"Perhaps I'll answer your questions when you get here. We can have ourselves a good old palaver."

A sickening chill ran up Wilforn's spine; he must have worked his way into the underground camera feeds already, he thought. _This one likes to play games_. Wilforn came to the conclusion that this person was almost drugged with his own antics – completely high on himself. He seemed to love the sound of his was voice; but there was something else there also – something just beneath the surface – something that bumped against the self satisfied tone, it was an unmerging feeling that he picked up from it. He thought it was something inhuman, but even so, he walked on.

It seemed that the helicopters were now landing – helicopters plural, which meant a lot more than three thorns in his side; it meant there was only one thing, one option available to him now. But first he was going to talk to this man; he couldn't name the reasons, but he felt compelled in a way to come face to face with this nameless person, almost as if he wanted to simply meet the one who caused the death of his people and the intrusion of his inner fortress.

He hadn't heard any new reports from his small teams near the northern sector, so he had no other choice but to assume that they had either contained the problem of the B.O.W's or they were dead. Although if they had all been killed then why hadn't he seen any of their beastly murderers? It didn't matter anymore; once he'd concluded what he was about to do – if he was still alive afterward that was – then he would move on to the final phase. Just thinking about his last act in this place excited him; it was a feeling that he rarely felt, and he was cherishing it.

Moments later he came upon the chamber, walking through without a spec of hesitation; why hesitation when fate was already decided for you, he thought. _If death has found me then I'm not worthy of my goals, but since I _am_ worthy then I have nothing to fear._

He saw what he'd expected to see; everyone was dead. Two of his people were still slumped in their seats, as if they hadn't even had time to move before their fate caught them by the throat. Their necks were sliced cleanly, scarlet rivers running down their chests, soaking their clothes. Wilforn stepped further into the chamber, seeing the rest of his staff, including two of his security force that he'd left behind, all scattered about the area, and all just as dead as the ones still seated. Not one of them had made it to door.

The large centre screen on the far wall was partially sprayed with their blood, but it revealed enough to let Wilforn know that he didn't have much time. The choppers were sitting on his northern helipad, troops swarming out, more than he'd expected. It didn't take a great number of brain cells to realise that they weren't government soldiers. _Wesker, you certainly like a make a mess don't you?_

Wilforn walked into the chamber's centre, keeping his eyes on the larger screen. He couldn't help smiling. "You can stop this nonsense immediately. It's not polite to sneak up on people."

"Ok, you got me," a voice responded from right behind him. "Very good Mr Wilforn."

A younger man, maybe younger than Wilforn by near two decades stepped into view, coming to a stop two feet in front of him. He was clothed in a black military style jump suit with black boots; the outfit was partially splattered with recently shed blood, with a helping of dark red that must have occurred earlier. He looked positively enthralled in his work. Even without having to read his mind – which he was doing at a leisurely rate at this moment – Wilforn could see that the man was dangerous, insane and dangerous.

"This is a new experience," the man said, an odd sort of smile forming across his lips. "No one has ever done that before."

Wilforn placed his hands in his pockets. He stood his ground, almost a hundred percent positive that he still held all the cards. "I wouldn't feel too badly about it; it's a certain gift I have. And also, you think too loudly Mr King."

The man – Mr King – grinned broadly. "So it's true. You can peek into people's heads; quite the cheeky bastard, aren't you?"

Wilforn knew right away that Wesker never told this man of the research conducted here, or of Wilforn's abilities. King had discovered these details elsewhere without his employer's knowledge. _This is very interesting indeed,_ Wilforn thought. "Cheeky you say? As opposed to forcing your way in here, killing many of my people in the process."

"Touché," King said, his smile beginning to fall away. "Well you're the mind reader Mr Wilforn. So tell me, what am I thinking now?"

Wilforn wasn't sure if this Mr King, this shark in human form, would fall for any type of mind manipulation; and from what he could pick up from a quick scan of the man's brain it was more than apparent that he wasn't afraid of much – if anything.

Just when he thought that there was nothing to take advantage of, Wilforn found something, some small thing creeping the shadows of King's thoughts. It gave Wilforn the feeling of a young child, playing hide and seek, convinced that it had found a good hiding spot, but was too rooted in its early thinking to know that it had been discovered. Wilforn wondered if King was aware of this?

"I don't think I need any special ability to predict your intentions," Wilforn said, seeing a sudden flash of amusement on the man's face, and then it was gone again. "Your eyes tell me all I need; I think you enjoy killing far too much. It's sickening to say the least my boy."

"You don't really believe a lecture will help, do you?" King said. "If that's the case then you've obviously overestimated yourself," a gleaming curved blade was suddenly in King's hand; a line of light bounced off if it from the ceiling light, hitting the older man in the eyes as King raised it up. "Well then, I think we've spent enough time chatting?"

"Do you really believe that Albert Wesker will just let you live once you've served your purpose?" Wilforn asked. He knew he wouldn't get very far if he tried to run, but maybe he still didn't need to. In any case he felt very little fear. "His plans will never be truly complete unless people like you are dead."

King, the man who some referred to as Phantom, smiled very faintly, regarding Wilforn with a slight but curious frown. He watched as King lowered the small knife, the blade that Wilforn was certain King could use in dozens of ways if he wished to do so. Only he didn't; he was curious now. He wanted to hear more, but it was obvious that he was still planning to use that blade soon.

King began to twirl the knife in his right hand. "Sounds as though you know a thing or two about Wesker. Do tell."

"It's obvious to anyone Mr King: all the data, all the samples he's been collecting; do you honestly think that I haven't gotten word of his activities? Do you think he would be allying himself with rivals to Umbrella, gathering this wealth of knowledge, if he wasn't planning to use them for greater things?"

"And what greater things would he have in mind exactly?" King asked, his amusement suddenly rising to a bursting point. "Go on, spin your little tale. No one's coming for you anyway."

"The same goal as all great men in history who achieve power: new world order." Wilforn explained. "Stripping away everything that is tainted and corrupt, and erecting their utopian beliefs and visions upon a world deserving of so much more than it currently has. Everything he's been doing points to this; once you've snuffed out his opposition it will be over for you. Do you really think an orderly world would invite the likes of you into its newborn arms? You're a virus Mr King – far too unpredictable and uncivilised to exist in such a place."

King's entertainment never left his face as he slowly paced in front of Wilforn, still playing with the knife as he spoke. "So what you're telling me is Wesker's using me to clean up his long list of garbage before his perfect world arrives? You're saying that once I've done my job, once I have taken out all the trash, that he will… what, stab me in the back? You think he wants to rule the world?" King laughed. "Wesker with a crown on his head, sitting on some stuffy throne? You'll forgive me if I call bullshit on the King of the World theory. Nice try though."

_Oh, I'm not quite finished yet._

Wilforn had been tunnelling his way through the man's thoughts ever since the conversation had begun; in short – just from that quick first look alone – Daniel King probably possessed the blackest heart he'd ever seen; he was a monster, completely void of any empathy or humanity. He didn't have a soul. But what he did have was the name of the woman who had intruded on his island; she was floating through his thoughts even now. Wilforn knew everything now; he knew the woman's name, what she was there for, and her relation to the American agent, to King, and to Wesker. It was all a tangled web of lies, love, and hatred. And he couldn't have been happier at all of this new artillery.

Wilforn managed to hold back his own smile; he had everything now. "You'd never understand such a mind Mr King," he said. "You're a rabid dog – a demon with a cancerous collar around your neck. And I don't think Wesker will ever take it off, no matter how far you're willing to go for him."

"Oh," King stopped smiling. "You're referring to _that_?"

Wilforn nodded. "I know what it's doing to you."

"How interesting," King said. "You're entertaining, I'll give you that much." he looked far from entertained. "I suppose this it the part where you make me a better offer?"

"Well it all depends on what you consider a better offer doesn't it?"

"Well say the words," King said, visibly grinding his teeth. "And maybe I'll take not pulling your heart out of your arse into consideration."

"Oh I think I've got just the thing for you."


	15. Chapter 15

_I'm not sure what's wrong with me at the moment lol I usually go months without updating, and now this is the fourth chapter I've posted in two weeks. Hope you like this latest chapter. And I don't own Resident Evil, it and all its characters (not including my OC's) are the property of _Capcom._  
_

* * *

**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 15**

Ada stopped running when she saw the estate, set within a clearing, much smaller than the space the hotel sat in; a large house – almost a mansion – a couple of dozen metres in front of her, surrounded by a wildly overgrown garden. She took large gulps of air as she walked, feeling a scraping fatigue creeping all over her; she felt nearly depleted already, aching and tired to a point where sleep might seem like the best idea in the world to most people. Fortunately she wasn't most people.

By some miraculous chance, she had lost the beasts coming after her, but not without running her lungs into the ground. She had been lucky; having to turn her flashlight off at the time (giving them something bright and flickering to follow wasn't an entertaining idea at all) meant running in the dark, something she wasn't overly fond of, but now they were out of sight and hearing range. She decided to take the chance, flicking her light on again, illuminating a narrow tunnel of bright yellow across the grass, leading to the neglected and depressing construction ahead of her. The building, just like the hotel, hadn't been used for years. It didn't appear quite as haggered as the hotel however; the possibility of a collapsing ceiling or floor didn't concern her this time round, at least not as much.

She was never told exactly where the southern entrance was, because The Organisation's man on the inside hadn't known himself, and had only by chance discovered that it was in the estate somewhere; he'd been assigned to Wilforn's security, but apparently the scientist hadn't trusted the grunts with so much as a back-up route if something should happen. Ada had only ever known the exact location of the northern entrance, but according to the insider it was the most closely guarded. For all she knew Wesker might have forced his way through already, but since she was on her own, maintaining an attack on Wilforn's front door wasn't much of an option.

The entrance was around here somewhere; she had to find it. But there was something else she had to do first: she had to close the wound that Leon had given her; tiny droplets of blood were still emerging from the deep cut. The pain she could deal with, but getting an infection at this point in her mission wasn't worth thinking on.

The narrow path leading towards the front porch was broken and damp, with blades of grass growing through the cracks; the thunder and lightning had ended a few minutes ago, but the rain still pushed on in a near continous plunge. It wasn't as heavy as earlier, yet still enough to drench Ada to the bone. Her boots were now filled with water; she hardly noticed such a small inconvenience, and next to everything else that's exactly what it was.

She walked up the small steps of the porch, casting her eyes on the windows; and of those there were a great number to see, where too many eyes could be watching her from the dark. Although she didn't feel any presence other than her own: if Daniel King was in the area, he wasn't willing to show himself yet. And that was assuming he _was _nearby; from what she had seen before – with the squadron of helicopters passing over head – she was willing to bet that King was either down there or was entering the underground complex right now. _I have to move quicker than this._

Ada moved into the space of the open doors, sheltering herself as best she could from the rain as she slumped against the frame. A quick glance inside didn't reveal any visible threat. She sat down against the doorframe, then reaching into a pouch on her belt, she retrieved a needle and thread; the one thing she could have practically cherished at this moment was something to sterilize the wound with, but sadly she had packed light for this mission. Too light. There was nothing she could do about it now; the closing the wound would have to do; and once that was done she wouldn't be able to stop for anything. She just hoped to hell that she had enough energy to get the job done. _I don't care if I cripple myself doing it, _she thought. _I'm finishing this mission and I'm getting my payday. _The last and final payday she would ever receive from The Organisation, and it was worth more to her that any amount of cash in the world.

She pushed the thin black line of thread through the end of the needle, then raising a small canister of water her to lips; Ada took one thirsty gulp, but immediately stopped herself form taking any more than she had to. She sprinkled a small amount onto the wound, feeling a minor sting as it washed away some of the blood. And then she took the needle, the part she wasn't fond of at all; there was instantly discomfort when metal pierced her skin near the cut, and she found that when Leon's image closed in on her thoughts once more that the pain wasn't quite so bad.

Ada continued her work, hoping that Leon wasn't dead now; somehow she didn't believe he was. But a frightening thought overtook her in that daydreaming instant that perhaps he had lied to her, that there was no tunnel where he had fallen and that he'd only made the whole thing up to keep her moving so she didn't die as well. She knew his feelings for her well enough, so it was completely possible. _He's too good for me. He's not dead; he's alive because that's what he does, he survives._

The sounds of the creatures were merely muffled background noise now; far too distant to cause her any trouble, but still she felt it best to get her search for the entrance done with soon. Ada bit the end off of the thread when she was done, tossing the remaining pieces back into her pouch. She checked over her handy work: a fairly straight line replaced the wound, sealed by black stitch. It was a hell of a lot better than nothing, and it would just have to do until she was finished. But at least she wasn't bleeding anymore.

Ada slowly stood up again, fighting the urge stay seated as her muscles protested rather vigorously. She ran her hands through her hair, trying to ring as much rainwater out of she could. She grunted as her hand came upon the left side of her face, feeling the decent swelling that had flamed up after Leon's kick, the one that had almost catapulted her into the next decade. She would have felt badly that the agent had knocked her about the hotel like he did, if she hadn't kicked his ass a little herself. At any rate, she'd try to avoid future conflicts with him if she could help it.

Over the years she had trained so hard in her particular field, and was skilled in ending lives with her bare hands if the occasion called for such a measure; she was experienced enough when she had first met Leon, back when he was simply a first day rookie cop. Now six years on, and he could match her without any trouble. To rise as he had; it must have taken a will to win that Ada had nothing but respect for. She'd seen these traits in Raccoon City, when they had already begun to surface; she supposed that was partly why she felt such an attraction towards him. His will to overcome anything and everything.

An explosive roar almost consumed the night air suddenly. Ada withdrew from her thoughts, looking out towards the sky, above the trees, back in the direction she had emerged from. Maybe a hundred feet above the tree line she saw the burning helicopter, a scorching blackened shell gushing flames, lit up against the darkness like a demonic flickering eye. For a split second Ada thought it was watching her. And then the helicopter crashing down, smashing through the trees with a thundering force that awoke every creature on the island. Birds fled the trees, awoken from their nightly peace. The wreckage spun when it touched down, a rolling ball of fire emerging from the forest, tumbling into the huge overgrown garden. Ada watched in disbelief as the mangled corpse of the aircraft came to a stop twenty feet away from the porch, and then everything was quiet again, all but the crackle of the flames, and the angered hissing those flames made at the intrusive touch of the rain.

She didn't like this new development at all. _Who is this unfortunate traveller, I wonder__? _She didn't know but the fact that she was fully awake to was that those creatures might be drawn to the fire. She'd only make herself a target again and she had already done that enough already. Turning her back on the wreckage, she ventured into the house.

At the last minute, before she lost sight of the flames, she imagined that she saw someone pulling themselves from the chopper. _That Straightjacket monstrousity must have worked my imagination too hard, _she thought.

* * *

_Jesus,_ Leon thought. _Why cant I just go on a regular holiday like normal people?_

He checked his watch; the time had stopped at quarter to nine, right around the time that it must have smashed on something; the glass casing over the digital reading was cracked, the screen now dark, the numbers absent. He was fairly certain that it must have broke when he was knocked out of the window, either that or during his fight with Ada.

His head still pained him repeatedly, from the huge blow to the head that had temporarily wiped out his brain, at least it felt that way when it happened. But despite the pain he felt it wasn't serious enough to stop him in his tracks, even if it hurt like a son of a bitch. _Just typical,_ he thought._ Splitting headache and no aspirin._

He had discovered a narrow cave passage in the whole he'd fallen into, and had been wandering through it for a little while now. He kept his gun raised at all times, the torch lighting up a fair amount of the tunnel in front of him. It reminded him a little of the caves beneath Salazar's castle; he just preyed that there were no giant bugs crawling around down here. God he hated those.

The overpowering absence of sound would have shook his nerves to pieces if he hadn't grown accustomed to those things that went bump in the night, the things of people's deepest nightmares. Although he still found the space a bit too closed in for his liking, even if nothing was coming for him. There had been no sign that any of the beasts above were tracking him; that was a good sign, or maybe it was bad; if they weren't chasing him then it was obvious where they were. They were going after Ada. _I really hope she makes it. She'd better._

He guessed that she would now feel a little more at ease, knowing that he was no longer tagging along with her; she wanted to complete her objective and she didn't want anyone in the way, and Leon supposed that that included him. He still couldn't believe he'd tried to kill her; illusion aside, it still didn't make him feel any better, knowing that she could have died by his hand.

The fact that they had kissed however, that was something he found even more unbelievable. They had shared a moment back there, a moment that he doubted either one of them would forget. The last time they been anywhere approaching intimate with each other was six years ago, and he now realised that his feelings for her would always lead him to this. But it still didn't shake his frustration at her elusive behaviour.

It had become apparent to him that it was pointless to analyse her every move and decision, because he didn't have the slightest clue as to what exactly that they were. All he knew for certain was the she cared about him; perhaps mores than he ever thought possible. That could never be a deception on her part. And he returned this feeling, matching her every step of the way. What else would explain the lengths he had gone to over the past couple of days? She had saved him many times, but it wasn't just that. It had never been just that.

He continued on through the tunnel, and as he did his childhood memories flared again, and he was brought back to that fateful day when Katherine – the elusive first crush – had received hassle from a couple of older boys, both easily bigger than him, and they towered over her. Leon had never known what the trouble was all about; he had never asked and he had never really thought on the possibilities. As soon as he saw one of them grasp her arm roughly his mind switched to autopilot and things already started to happen. He had charged them both without any thought for himself. It was a rash move on his part, one that had resulted in him receiving a beating that had opened his eyes for the first time to the reality that people weren't indestructible. But he had done it anyway, he had dived in when the girl needed him, and it had spared her from whatever issue those idiots had with her.

Fortunately he had gotten into less trouble than they had; one of the teachers had told him that Katherine had explained what had happened, and despite his bloody nose and swollen lip his friends and an impressive number of others hailed him as the school hero; swinging in to save the damsel as it were. However, to his colossal heartbreak, he had never seen her again after that; he heard that she'd moved with her family to a different city, but never discovered anymore than that. And the well of regret had hurt more than being punched, the regret that he had never taken the initiative and actually took the opportunity to get to know her.

That disappointment was only overshadowed by the clear and vibrant certainty of what he wanted to do for the rest of his life: he wanted to be a hero, he wanted to protect people from the bad guys, no matter how big or how strong they were; he'd show them that there were people who wouldn't stand idly by while the innocent suffered for the wrong doings of those who took advantage, just because they felt they could. He had never looked back after that epiphany; it was the day that changed everything.

The passage began to narrow even more, and Leon was grateful that he wasn't claustrophobic; he had minor phobias when he was a kid but fortunately not that particular fear, and also luckily for him none of them had ever followed him through to adulthood.

A few minutes passed when his flashlight caught something else; when he drew in closer he could see a door. It was rusted over, old and covered in a thick coppery brown; it looked like it had been abandoned for a long time; apparently the entire island was falling apart. He didn't know what the door would be doing down here, but some relief arose within him at the sight of a possible exit. He had been on the brink of wondering how much further this tunnel would go.

_But what the hell is it doing here? What else has Wilforn been up to here?_

Then he got closer, and stopped when he examined the door more closely. He realised something just then; it wasn't rust on the door. It was dry blood. Leon's fingers constricted around the handle of his gun as he scanned the light across its surface; at the same time he began to reach out with his left hand, wondering what kind of madness had taken place here before his arrival. Something had happened here, something other than the current assembly of monsters and lunatics. Something from a long time ago.

He pushed against it, and at first the door wouldn't budge from its frame, having been crusted in place for so long it took greater force before Leon could finally get it moving. He pressed almost as hard as he could into the door. After a few seconds the rickety slab of stained metal swung inwards, creating a haunting low howl from the un-oiled hinges; the sound was awful, a pitiful high pitched whimper that almost called out to him. And Leon was man enough to admit that it had chilled his skin when he first heard it. His headache was now forgotten.

His light spilled through the doorway, and Leon stepped in, scanning what lay beyond. He kept his breathing quiet and steady as the torch beam swung over the dirty and dust paved surface of wooden flooring. His eyes followed the light; he was looking at what appeared to be a small room, but as he stepped further inside what he saw in there gave him a surprise. A single bed lay off to the left, pressed against the wall; it was covered with what looked to be expensive dolls and stuffed bears. Only these toys had been here a while; the fabric and texture now absent of any real colour they once had, dying away as old spider webbing rotted among them.

Leon walked further still, keeping his steps as light as he could but still unable to prevent the protesting creaks in the boards beneath his feet. He saw an old rocking horse in the corner to his left also, near the door he'd just come through; dull red and white paint was chipped and flaking off.

A small cupboard with draws lay on the far right, just near another rusty door at the other end, looking not much different from the other. Leon didn't like the thought, but it looked as if these doors were meant to make sure that someone couldn't leave this room. Is that was this place was, he wondered? Had it been intended as a prison? The creep factor just rose to new levels as Leon did his best to ignore the possibilities.

Walking slowly through the space of the room, Leon found the sight more and more unsettling. His eyes rolled across the sagging wallpaper, and the faded patterns that had lost their bold and bright colours. He came up to cupboard he'd noticed before, seeing something small on top; there was a single photo standing propped up, surrounded and blanketed by an ocean of dust; it had a simple wooden frame that had no real colour. Leon took one hand away from his sidearm, reaching out towards the photo. He picked it up; lifting it towards his face, blowing the glass front clear of the dust that obscured whatever image lay beneath.

There was a paling colour photo within the frame. A picture of a man; he appeared to be in his early to mid forties from what Leon could tell. But the man was also holding a baby, perhaps a few months old at best; it's tiny face sinking into a blanket the man had wrapped around him... or her. _Of course its a girl,_ he thought; the dolls on the bed were one clue. And Leon just assumed anyway; maybe it wasn't that baby's room, and maybe it wasn't important at all.

It didn't take much of a brain to know who the man was, even if this photo was taken years ago: Patrick Wilforn's smile seemed strange in the picture, forced, Leon thought. His eyes held what Leon could only categorize as a monumental heartbreak. Despite everything Leon found himself feeling sorry for the man in the picture; behind the dirty glass he seemed like the saddest man alive.

"_GET OUT!_"

Leon's heart nearly jumped out of his mouth. Dropping the photo, barely noticing or hearing the glass breaking on contact with the floor, he aimed his gun directly at the door he had come through. He didn't see anything. His eyes darted about the area frantically, searching for the source of that voice, that voice that was pulsing with a horrifying anger that he had never heard or felt before. It had sounded like the voice of a young girl.

_Someone's in here with me,_ he thought; he was almost certain that a vibration had rippled through the walls just after the voice burst into his ears. _How did…_

"Show yourself," he said; he would have been lying if he were to tell someone that what just happened hadn't freaked him the hell out. The atmosphere in the room had been oppressive enough, but now the temperature seemed to be dropping dramatically. Leon felt like he was trapped in a freezer. "Come out, now."

There was no response; if there was someone in the room they were now ignoring him. He kept his weapon trained on the door for the moment, as the silence enveloped his world once again, stealthily swaying through his ears. He tried to blot out the unease that was hammering at the tightly sealed front gates of his sanity; but he was thinking that he'd need a better padlock before this was over.

Leon started stepping over the screeching boards, moving back towards the door. When he reached it he poked his gun through, checking the passage beyond to see if anyone or anything had followed him. _Anything? That was a _human_ sound, a human voice shouting at me._ There was nothing through the tunnel either. But there was no way he had imagined the voice, that shrieking and awful screaming voice.

He'd been through a great deal in the past couple of days, so it was possible that his mind was playing tricks. But he dismissed the thought almost instantly; he had fought his way passed the trauma of violence and death a long time ago.

For a moment he considered going back through the tunnel again, just to check to see if any person might have retreated down there. He shifted his gun away from the passage for just a second, letting the light shine off back into the room. That's when he saw something move, something in the corner of his eye. Leon's body could have almost broke the sound barrier as he twirled on the spot, his trigger finger almost kicking in as he stared towards the door on the opposite side; a single trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face as he stared ahead, falling off of his chin as the opposite door slowly swung open, creating that same lonely whimper.

_Someone was standing there just now. There's no way I imagined that!_

He didn't know what was going on, but the anxiety he now felt was surely of an unknown origin, completely alien to him. Leon waiting as the door opened all the way, but there was nothing behind it except the same darkness that worked its way across everything else. Leon's throat locked, his breathing stood still. He walked towards the door, but even as he stepped closer he didn't see anything beyond, except for another tunnel. But as he got closer he saw that this one was different; it was walled with dark concrete. A gust a cold air blew in from ahead, chilling his face, drying the sweat that had risen on his warm skin.

Leon was reminded slightly of the games that Phantom had played in the darkness of his apartment, but he knew that this was different. He didn't have any training for this; something was there, but at the same time it wasn't. What does _that_ mean, he wondered? When he got within a few feet of the open door there was a sound; at first he wasn't sure what it was, or where it was coming from. And then it rose in volume. It was the sound of heavy breathing; it sounded vicious, and somewhat desperate, pleading and threatening at the same time.

"What in the… "

The sound rose and writhed like smoke from all around, and it was getting louder and louder. It drew in on him, like long crasping hands, searching for him. _Leon, move the hell on right now_, he ordered himself._ Get out of here! _

He didn't need any more encouragement; within the next second he was jogging through into the next passage, keeping his gun up at all times. All he wanted to do was put a considerable distance between him self and that room; whatever was going on in there wasn't good, and Leon was quite comfortable with never going back.

* * *

Ada froze when she heard footsteps behind her, the pounding of small feet on the porch. She had just crossed into a wide hallway, and had been heading for a door at the other end when she her ears caught the noise. From the sound Ada didn't think the person was very big; but there was always the chance that they were trying to mask their approach. If that was the case then they were most likely coming for her.

She turned on the door she'd just come through, her light washing over the faded decaying wood. She raised her handgun, waiting for the person to come through the door. But they never did.

The footsteps could still be heard, thudding gently across the foyer; there had been two other doors there, and it now seemed that whoever this unknown individual was, they were heading away from her. A series of scenarios crossed Ada's mind. _Maybe its King, _she thought? _Leon. It might be Leon? Maybe he escaped the whole? Perhaps he got by the B.O.W's somehow and followed me here?_ And then something else came to mind, and it was an option that she found ridiculous: _Someone from the helicopter wreckage? Impossible. I'd just imagined that figure before.  
_

Stepping over to one of the windows in the hallway, Ada looked through to see the still burning chopper outside, destroyed and inanimate from whatever had happened in the air. Something had certainly gone wrong during its flight, but Ada was clueless as to what that might be, nor did she really care for that matter. But this new presence intrigued her, and she began to move back the way she'd come, intending to follow this person and find out exactly who they were and what they were doing.

_If it's Leon, then good; at least he's still alive. If its King, then I'll have to focus on him until he's no longer a factor._

But she had to hurry; Wesker was already here and for all she knew he had gone underground already. But she couldn't ignore this; a potential threat at this late date wouldn't be tolerated. Ada stepped toward the door. She reached out and grasped the handle, ready to switch her flashlight off and pursue when her head suddenly throbbed with pain.

Ada retreated from the door, clutching at her skull with her free hand as a voice, a girl's voice, lashed through her mind: _What is it? Lies. Lies! It's all lies! _Ada realised almost immediately that this voice wasn't her own; it was almost as if someone was thinking too hard, throwing out angered cerebral mutterings, sending them in all directions for anyone to hear. But how? Is it that Straightjacket again, she wondered? But it couldn't be and she knew it; Straightjacket was dead. This was something else.

_Where is the door?_ It started again, and the psychotic rage Ada picked up stunned and disorientated her, mentally, emotionally, and almost physically.

_He lied to me!_ The voice said._ He's gone down there and he lied to me! Snivelling. Door. Underneath. Watson. Maggot. Father, tearing, insects, lying, island, filthy, Watson, Father Wesker twofaced pathetic killing drug killing kill them kill them KILL THEM! GET OUT!_ And then Ada's feet left the ground, just as the entire building began to vibrate.

Something was happened, something that shook the estate so hard that Ada thought the ceiling was going to cave in on her. She rolled onto her back, the ground pounding beneath her; her headache from that terrible voice had subsided now, but the ground rocked so violently that she was unable to stand up. Instead she crawled, leaning against the wall as an apocalyptic crash roared through the house, coming from somewhere beyond the foyer. And Ada knew that it must have had something to do with whoever had just entered after her. When it came the floor had jumped, seemingly a foot into the air. Ada was taken with it.

The windows in the hall burst outward, propelling a glittering swarm of shards through the air as the house came to a sudden explosive halt, the walls barely strong enough to hold the structure. A moment of silence came after as Ada rolled onto her side, rubbing a hand against her back, and then a loud creaking moan groaned out from above her. Her body stiffened as she looked up. The ceiling was going to come down.

Darting to her feet like a wire spring, Ada leapt up and ran for the door, slamming into it and ploughing through. There was a loud crash behind her as she fell into foyer, the result sending plumes of dust swelling out through the open door, brushing ash grey against the black of Ada's tattered clothes. She breathed a sigh of relief; once again she had narrowly slipped through the fingers of a painful end.

_What was that?_ She thought.

Ada turned toward where she'd seen one of the other doors, at the far end of the foyer; what she saw now was a hole where the door had once been, leading into a large space further on. Whoever this person was, they had just ripped down the wall; Ada was almost certain that this voice, the girl, whoever they were was also the cause of whatever just happened. It had felt like an earthquake, a tremble in the walls and floors of the house that threatened to swallow everything – including her.

_There's no way the Straightjacket could have done that. Who was that?_ _And how do they know Wesker?_

Ada was curious to uncover these things, except of course there were the two main reasons for steering clear of finding answers: the first being that she had her own business to take care of, and second, she was in no way enthusiastic about running into whatever or whoever had almost crushed a building, especially one of this size.

Nevertheless Ada had gathered enough from that voice to know that she (Ada decided to think of it as a girl for now, considering the voice in her head) was looking for a way down, just like she was. She thought that perhaps if she went through the newly made door that she might find a route without having to search every corner of the house.

The air had taken on a frightening cold, clinging to the gleaming heat of Ada's body like countless flakes of snow, goose-bumping her arms like a extra skin. It hadn't been anywhere near this freezing outside, even in the rainy autumn air; but she didn't need an over abundance of brains to understand that the temperature had altered the moment that presence had arrived within a few feet of her.

Ada wondered, as she moved towards the hole in the wall, what would have happened if this girl – if indeed she was a girl at all – had of chosen a different door?

She moved with an apprehensive stride as she entered the room beyond. Her light only granted her a small line of sight, but she thought that the space was big, possible very big. Ada didn't hear the presence of anyone else; the possibility that someone was hiding, waiting for her, was cast aside fairly quickly; whoever had just passed by had already moved on. At least that was what she hoped.

Her boot knocked against something, sending the unseen object sliding away a couple of feet; Ada inspected the floor, her eyes catching the shape of a hardback book that she'd just kicked. But then she noticed the others, other books, countless volumes, scattered all over the ground, like a Greek war fleet on its way to Troy.

Investigating further, Ada realised that the walls, or at least the parts that the light revealed, were lined with bookshelves, with most of their contents having fallen to the floor during that unpleasantness a few minutes prior. It must have been one of the largest collections she had ever seen, and by far the most neglected; clearly Wilforn had other hobbies that claimed his precious time these days.

She followed the wall on the right hand side, not wanting to be caught sightless in the open; have her back against the shelves was almost comforting, reducing the chances of an ambush. As she moved along side she saw something, further along where the wall turned left. The wall, and the shelving placed against it, had been ripped open. A pile of shredded and crushed bookshelves lay about the floor, mixed in with chunks of brick; mounds of debris lay there, and it all looked recently done. _Well of course it was,_ she thought. The mounds of destruction sat around the bus size opening, and through it Ada saw a dimly lit room; it was only small, but still more than large enough to reveal an elevator set into the far wall.

_The secret entrance, _she sighed almost too loudly. _There must have been a mechanism in the shelving that moved the wall. _Obviously whoever had just come through here hadn't known about this, and hadn't bothered to check. But she had to wonder – yet again: how did they rip down the wall? How had they been able to tremble a building so large? Straightjacket had been telekinetic, as well as telepathic, but the kind of force that Ada had felt… it seemed unimaginable.

Ada climbed over the rubble as carefully as she could, and was then heading into the small chamber; it was partially lit, with a small shade-less and more or less useless bulb dangling form its ceiling corner. However she supposed that it was better than nothing at all. She switched off her belt light and approached the elevator; she reached out hand, ready to call it back up. At the same time she hoped – preyed – that when she got down there that whoever had come through here had left quickly; reducing the chances of them crossing paths. Only madness and death led down that road, and she'd had enough of both for one lifetime.


	16. Chapter 16

_Finally another update. Sorry to everyone who has been waiting. I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter._**  
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**RESIDENT EVIL: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 16**

The grey uniform was stained with a deep expanding red, newly oozing blood seeping through the man's clothes further and further. Wilforn observed this, with no real attachment to any particular emotion at all. He wasn't curious, or entertained, nor was he disappointed; his security was most certainly all defeated by now, but they had done their job. He was now where he was supposed to me. His enemies wouldn't discover him.

It was in the northern sector where this man lay dying, sagging against a wall, a large burgundy tear running across his chest; the image feeding back to Wilforn's screen displayed every fine detail of the man's agony.

The B.O.W's had already breached the barricades, and were now wandering the corridors as if this manmade construction of tunnels and chambers were home to them. Wilforn had indeed lost control of maintaining any degree of stability within the facility. But alas it wasn't all together a failure; he hadn't truly lost what really mattered.

He sat in the dark, viewing multiple locations of the underground. Wesker's troops were already securing the northern entrance, and Wilforn had seen two other groups break off. It didn't take any level of genius to know where at least one of these squads was heading; the labs were always going to be a high target. Even a child would have had the foresight for such an outcome.

Wilforn felt only a minor ripple of flattery, understanding only too well that Wesker's prime target was him. It was only logical to assume; he was the origin of his own life's work; without his DNA none of this would have been possible. His natural born telepathy paved the road for redesigning the human mind; telepathy was only the beginning however. Reading minds, reading thoughts, and projecting thoughts – like he was able to do – was where it had started; but if one were capable of such power, then what other mysteries did the mind hold? That had been the question, and now Wilforn had the answer, and it was an answer that he would not hand over to anyone, not until his finals breaths were shed from his body.

He found it surprising that since he began to watch the events unfold he hadn't seen any sign of Daniel King; the last he'd seen the man was when he'd killed one of the B.O.W's on his way toward the labs. And now he was gone. There were still a few non-important assistant staff in the lab area, but they could be replaced as easy as tap water. The fact that Wilforn would have to take special care when dealing with King was ever present in his mind; he was more or less certain that the situation was under control, or at least as much control as possible, considering the warped brain in question.

Wilforn sat back in his chair, wondering how long it had been since the government agent went missing. _Still no sign. Where is he?_ For a time he had suspected, but didn't know for sure, so entertaining that suspicion was pointless; Wilforn didn't like uncertainty, but then he guessed that if Leon Kennedy didn't reach the facility then he was as good as dead anyway. Or better yet, he'd simply be wandering aimlessly until Wilforn's work was done and he was long gone.

Ada Wong had been standing inside the front doors of his house on the surface when he'd switched to a view of that area. The strange thing was that when he did there was something else as well; a helicopter (he guessed that it might have been one of Wesker's, or perhaps maybe Mr Kennedy had called in back-up) had crashed before he'd switched to a camera set in a small tree stump near the porch. It was now a cooking skeletal mass of shredded metal. Wilforn flicked glances between several small screens: some with Wesker's men moving through his facility, another with his dead security staff, and then to Wong as she turned towards the foyer and began to head inside, casting a very brief look back at the helicopter as she did.

Let her wander in the shadows, he thought; unless she had first hand knowledge to the location of the entrance it would take her considerable time to find the labs. It wasn't hard to imagine that someone had sold him out to the opposition. There was a traitor within his ranks, or there _had_ been before the attack. This probably meant the mole was either hiding or more likely dead by now. He wished that he had scanned every single person working for him; unfortunately his busy schedule couldn't accommodate everyone. He would have to be more careful in the future.

Someone crawled out of the burning helicopter. Wilforn sat up straight, leaning in close when he saw this, observing the slender form pull itself free, stepping onto a dark smoking patch where grass once flourished. He couldn't see them in much detail, but what he did see shocked him; the flames weren't touching this person, as if something invisible, something not there but at the same time existing, was resisting them, pushing them away from the woman (girl, he thought it looked like a girl, maybe a teenager), almost like a shield.

Curiosity wasn't really the word that he would have chosen to describe his feelings at this moment; Wilforn was overwhelmed with awe as the girl walked away from the crash, the flaming ruin, without a single burn on her body. She began walking toward the front doors, her image clearing more and more the closer she came. Even with night vision green he saw enough to know that she was a brunette, and fairly short, with bright eyes – though he couldn't tell what colour they might have been. He had absolutely no idea who she was, but there was something, something about her face that seemed familiar somehow.

_How did she keep the fire back? Is she telekinetic? But to do that using… _Wilforn's mind stopped asking questions at that moment, when she closed in on the steps. He froze, unbelieving in what he had just realised, and what it could mean.

"No," he gasped. "That's not… that's," he paused, barely able to will his mind into action. "It can't be."

He couldn't accept it, not in all his life had he ever experienced the shear weight of such realisation, not to this magnitude. He felt stunted, drained, almost drunk with doubt. It came cascading over him like a drowning rainfall as his breath came out quick and forceful. And mingling in with these perplexities was a tsunami of betrayal. For the first time he realised where he stood with others – where he truly stood. Watching as the girl entered the building, he had no doubt of the truth. His heart could have cracked wide open.

"Spencer lied to me," he said, seething hard. "You're still alive, Lisa."

* * *

Leon could no longer hear the roaring sounds of gunfire above his head; whoever had just been involved in the unseen battle had either moved on to somewhere else or they were now dead. Oddly enough he had almost welcomed the sounds of the carnage. Considering what he'd been through not long ago he was thankful for some form of noise, of people, of civilisation. The creeping silence had been more than unpleasant.

It wasn't easy, but he tried to put his mind elsewhere, as the memories of that room came back; he didn't know what was happening in this place but things seemed to have receded back to some degree of normality now that he had vacated that area. What he had heard and seen and felt wasn't possible; Leon wasn't imagining this, and he'd never been the type to become overly stressed by the horrors the world was plagued with.

The voice, the human shape in the room, that heavy breathing. It had happened, and he had doubts toward ever forgetting any of it. Nothing in his training would have her prepared him for that moment. It was something different, something untouchable – that he could not fight physically, and therefore it was frightening, terrible in a way that he had no control over. Whatever it was that Patrick Wilforn was cooking up within the deathly bowels of the island was a whole new breed of evil. The Straightjacket creature, with those deadly mind powers of his had been problem enough. Leon hoped that there were not more where he had come from.

The new section of the underground he had hastily made his way into was made up of concrete; the walls were dark and grey, giving off a morbid chill, filling the passage with cold damp air. He didn't think this place had been used in a long time either; in fact the room he had passed had been sealed up for a considerable group of years. Wilforn had a secret. _Who was the baby in the picture, Wilforn's child maybe?_ But then why did the man seem so upset behind that smile of his? Leon didn't know these things. Not yet. However he now knew that what was taking place had become infinitely greater than he and Phantom. Now he and Ada were court in the binding web of something worse.

Leon didn't need to be an exceptional mind to know that Ada held certain answers to the situation, perhaps not all but some, enough to keep them both breathing for the next few hours. If he were able to make it to the Wilforn estate he thought he might be able to finally get some information from her. Maybe. Her mission was her own business at this point, and none of his concern.

There was something else, something that would have recently been added to Leon's long list of growing problems: Hunnigan would have already tried to make contact with him several times now. Since he had already dumped his communications equipment Leon knew it would only be a matter of time before his back-up team were deployed to find him. Again, no one knew that he was on this island, only that he had landed in Nantes and that the team Hunnigan had sent in were to link up with him when the time came. If these people were in any way competent then he had no doubts that they would track him here. They may have already had set foot on the island's shores by now. _I can't let them find Ada. She had better finish what she's doing before they get here. _

The passage began to shake, a short sharp vibration rumbling beneath Leon's feet before they were taken from under him. He landed on his back, the ringing of some unseen blast piling into his ears. He grunted from the faint impact, about to decide on his next move when the decision was made for him. His gun-light revealed a deep set of cracks in the ceiling, a section of the ceiling that just so happened to be placed directly above him. And then it gave, crumbling away, plummeting down towards him.

Leon shifted his body to the left, rolling as fast as he could; chunks of dusty debris crashing down only inches from him as he rolled, coming to a stop at the wall. Mounds of dust wafted into the air as he picked himself up, looking up towards where the ceiling had feel in, to the opening that just been brought onto being by some explosion.

He aimed his light through the gap, and there was a space, large enough for a person to fit through. He had no trouble with seeing that much. His torch picked up enough detail to reveal a chamber above. Allowing himself a brief smile, Leon thought that wandering the endless shadows might finally have an end after all.

He had already heard the sounds of gunfire, but this new development told him that the fighting was still taking place. The possibility that Ada might be involved was a strong one, and pushed him into action again. He began to climb the pile of rubble, reaching for the opening. He kept his pistol in one hand, just in case any of these unknown combatants made themselves known; it wasn't impossible that Wilforn had human killers on his payroll as well as his lab-grown weapons.

Upon reaching the edge of the hole, Leon peeked out; his light brought enough illumination to the area, showing him a narrow chamber. Small fires burned here and there about the destroyed section of the room, casting flickers of bright orange against the walls. Leon crawled out of the hole, taking in the sight of the charred and smoking remains that used to be bunks; their skeletal remains now blackened and useless for any human who felt the need to use them.

When Leon got to his feet inside the room he found more; weapon magazines littered the floor, and bullet holes drew random and chaotic constellations in the walls and ceiling. And then there were the bodies, several dead human beings, scattered about the ground, lying crumbled and lifeless, soaking in pools of their own blood. Two of them that were closer to where Leon had emerged were toasting to an unhealthy charcoal shade. _Sucks to be them I guess. Looks like I've found Mr Wilforn's underground playhouse._

He now knew that he must have travelled directly beneath the facility, which also meant that he wouldn't have to bother with finding the estate anymore. He was already inside the base. Noticing a dimly lit area beyond an open door at the far end, Leon raised his gun and began stepping over the destruction, making his way toward it. He hoped that his efforts to find Ada brought him some fortune. Whoever had caused the explosion could still be around somewhere.

"Drop the gun," a rough voice said. "Now!"

_Shit!_

"I said drop the gun, boy," the voice said again. It was coming from directly behind him, and it wasn't a pleasing sound. "And get your hands where I can see them."

A strong wave of annoyance washed through Leon's brain as he slowly complied, letting his gun fall to the ground. The small fires cast a large shadow of the man against the wall near the door, the man who had just now gotten the drop on him. From the shape Leon got the impression that he was rather large. Panic wasn't one of Leon's specialties, and this case was no exception to the rule. Things wouldn't be done until he was dead and buried.

"This is Commander Stark," this man said, probably into a radio Leon thought. He then felt the harsh nudge of metal touch the back of his head. "I have the American agent."

"Good," a partially crackled and static riddled voice replied. "Have your men dealt with the B.O.W's yet?" Leon knew that voice, and he felt his entire body go cold.

_Wesker's here._

"The northern sector is clear," the soldier, Commander Stark, replied. "All remains of resistance are being neutralized now sir."

"Excellent," Wesker's voice came through again. "Keep that area secured. I have people in place in surveillance right now. It seems that Wong is down in the labs at the moment; I'm on my way there now. Keep me updated, and escort Mr Kennedy to surveillance."

Leon's mind winced, then began racing, trying to reach a solution. Wesker was near Ada, which was in fact the worst possible thing he could have heard all day. Ada was good at what she did, but she wouldn't stand a chance if they ran into each other. What she had done to get on the man's bad side, it must have been something serious, serious enough to warrant deploying Phantom.

"Roger that sir," Stark, as he'd been called, replied. Leon felt the gun press even harder, hard enough to sting. "Get moving."

Leon couldn't help a smirk; an experienced soldier should have known better than to step so close to an un-subdued enemy. "Is that a Glock you're holding?'

"What?"

He then acted, turning as swiftly as he could; his right hand whipping around, knocking the man's gun hand away, unsheathing his knife with his left hand, sending the blade towards Stark's jugular. But the big soldier evaded, moving a lot quicker than expected, trying to reposition his gun (and it was in fact a Glock; he thought it had felt like one) toward him. Leon reacted, closing in and grabbing the man's arm, slicing across the back of his hand, forcing him to drop his weapon with a low grunt.

Leon planted his elbow hard into the commander's chest, but was only rewarded with an almost blinding punch to the face, a blow that felt as if it might have put a horse on its back. This man was certainly a tough individual. Leon's brain felt like it might be rattling inside his head. He staggered backwards, almost tripping over a shrivelled corpse. When his vision cleared he saw the older looking giant of a man, in black combat gear that barely held against his considerable bulk, bounding towards him with raised and clenched fists. Stark's face looked as if it were carved out of stone, as if a moving car might kill itself against that hardened wall of aggression. But whether this man was as tough as he looked or not was irrelevant. Leon was going through him one way or another.

He readied himself. This guy was obviously well trained, to get behind him the way he had. Almost like Phantom, Leon thought. Almost.

Leon sidestepped a right cross, avoiding the blow. He then raised his knee his Stark's gut, following in with his knife, burying it deep in his opponent's shoulder. He was rewarded with a massive cry of pain, but was also rewarded with another sensation when the man fought through his own discomfort, driving his unhurt shoulder into Leon's stomach, ploughing into him like a bull. Leon felt the wind leave his body as he was tackled to the floor, their combined weight crushing whomever's body they had landed on.

Stark's fists pounded down towards him in an attempt, it seemed, to render him utterly brainless. Leon moved his head, dodging the oncoming bucket sized hands; if one of those hits connected while Leon's head was against the floor then the next few days would be spent in a coma, he thought. He couldn't let this man stop him. Wesker was heading towards Ada, and Leon would de damned if he would stand by while she faced him alone. This had to end and it had to end now.

For whatever reasons Stark had not bothered the pull the knife free from his bleeding shoulder. So Leon did it for him, gripping the handle and yanking the blade, forcing the wound to bleed further. He drove the knife into Stark's forearm, and this time it worked; he roared in pain, and his attacks stopped. Leon pulled the knife free and then kicked Stark off of him, which still took great effort due to the man's size. He quickly got to his feet, feeling that the large soldier could still pose some threat, even with two gushing knife wounds.

Leon sheathed his knife; he didn't want to kill the man before he could get some answers. Stark rushed forward, apparently ignoring the wounds he hand. He threw a desperate and highly telegraphed punch towards Leon, who stopped the attack dead in its tracks, planting his foot against the man's kneecap as he came in. The resulting crack was a painful sound. Leon continued, moving swiftly in and unleashing a blur of strikes with his fists to Stark's face and upper body until Stark finally fell to his knees. He wasn't going to be fighting back anymore.

Reaching down for his pistol, Leon retrieved the weapon. The light was still on, and when he brought it up towards Stark, the soldier was blinded by the brightness his eyes were suddenly assaulted with; he squinted hard as Leon kept his place three feet away. All he could see was anger in that face, the face of defeat. Leon thought it obvious that this man did not like to lose. The again, neither did Leon.

"Ok, start talking," Leon ordered, feeling the tightening of his own features when the man chuckled through his bloodied mouth. "Tell me where the labs are, right now, and I might just leave you with some dignity intact."

"Screw you," Stark growled, spitting blood onto the floor. "I'm not telling you a thing, you little punk."

Leon didn't have time for this back and forward routine. A more forceful approach would be needed; methods of obtaining information varied in their creative range of discomfort, and some of them were not to Leon's liking. Unfortunately he was running out of time. He had to find the lab before it was too late.

"I'm not going to ask you again. Tell me where– "

Leon ceased his words when he picked up the approaching sound of men shouting, coming from the direction of another door behind Commander Stark. Heavy boot steps, getting louder and louder. Leon glared down at the kneeling Stark, deciding that it couldn't be helped; he had to move right now. He sent his foot crashing into the side of Stark's face with a spinning kick, not even waiting to see him fall unconscious as he turned, running for the door he'd been heading for in the first place.

Moving with a strong renewal of purpose, Leon wondered if he could get to Ada in time. Or would he be too late, and arrive after the worst-case scenario played itself out?

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_Again, sorry for the late update. Hope you all like this new but slightly shorter chapter. And as always I'll try to update as soon as I can. Thanks to everyone who has been patient with me and kept reading, I appreciate it very much.  
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	17. Chapter 17

_Fairly quick update this time. Just watched the new CGI movie Resident Evil Damnation; I thought it was really good, way better than degeneration, and it kind of got me writing again. Sorry for the long waits, and I hope you all like this new chapter._**  
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**Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 17**

All that Ada had seen so far in the lower research areas were bodies, the dead bodies of the white coats, lying lifeless on the ground all around her. It immediately confirmed her fears that her enemy had beaten her to her goal. A person wouldn't have to be a genius to realise whom had recently been here; every one of these people had been killed with a blade, with cleanly sliced and gushing wounds running across their throats, or deep red penetrations to the heart, causing a certain end to all of them.

These startling details forced her to hasten her movements through the labs; at the moment there were no obstacles in her path, but experience had taught her that a temporary calm was usually exactly that. Temporary.

It appeared to her that Wilforn currently had his hands full with a problem of his very own. The creatures from the surface, the beasts that she and Leon had escaped from had somehow managed to breach the underground; Ada had already killed a small number of them on her way to the lab. However she had seen numerous dead security people; it seemed that Wilforn's small force had been completely overwhelmed.

_Have the B.O.W's killed everyone down here?_

The specifics of the creature's entry into the facility were shrouded from her knowledge at the moment, but considering that it was someone else's problem she wasn't intent on dwelling on the subject any further than she already had. She was finally at her destination. With any lucky she'd be finished with her assignment and away from the island within the hour. This was of course if she didn't run into Albert Wesker first.

Stepping swiftly and silently toward the next door on the far right of the room, Ada's mind swept over the memory of the helicopters she had seen earlier on. Wesker had no doubt entered the base by now; she guessed that she was too far from his breach point to hear any of the fighting that might still be taking place. With any luck she thought it possible that she'd be able to avoid his people all together. Except for whoever killed the lab-coats, of course?

If Patrick Wilforn still had any men at his disposal he would probably be using them to defend the facility, but Ada knew well enough that such a measure wouldn't slow Wesker's progress by much; sooner or later he'd get what he had come far, whatever that may be. Ada was sure that Wesker was unaware of the details concerning her mission, though he must have known she was here by now. Wesker was in no way stupid; the chances were that he had been monitoring the situation ever since this whole business with King had begun.

_I hope Leon's okay…_

Ada didn't have the slightest idea of how the agent was doing, or in fact where he was right now; the tunnel he had fallen into could have led off to anywhere, any dark corner of the island. She didn't like leaving him the way she had, but she also had to admit the truth of this man that had consumed her feelings with such a relentless and shocking grasp. Leon was capable, as capable as she was; she could count on that incredible ability to see him through this ordeal in one piece. She didn't think she had to worry about him; he would go through this latest horror and be back in the world in no time. Although once her mission was complete she thought that maybe she would try to locate him, as long as Wesker wasn't still hanging around by then.

As she reached the door, the thick sheet of metal rose up, sliding with an almost inaudible hum into the ceiling. Ada found herself staring down the length of a narrow passage, leading towards another open door a few metres ahead. Taking a deep breath, that may have been a bit too shaky for her liking, she then began making her way toward it. She checked her six every few seconds, wanting nothing to overwhelm her senses as the end drew near. She felt almost light-headed, from the knowledge that her years of work, the possible life she had given up among the other sacrifices in all this time she'd been searching, was now all going to pay off. She felt an almost euphoric sense of peace as she stepped closer and closer to this blinding certainty. She had all the intelligence she required; the thing she needed most was almost within reach.

It took her only a handful of seconds to reach the other end of the tunnel, her mind racing as she prepared to enter. Ada had already obtained a pass-code for the door, and the fact that the door was already open only halted her train of thought for just a moment. She was here now, and pondering this small detail only took up a second of her time. And then she was moving again. For the first time in years, Ada felt a genuine smile creeping up on her; it was a strange use of facial muscles, something that felt almost alien and yet felt so right as well. But she pushed it away as best she could. It wasn't over just yet.

The chamber beyond was large and rectangular in shape. As Ada slowly stepped in her boots echoed ever so slightly against the grating on the floor, pinging through the silence almost sharply. Her eyes were at the moment locked, focusing on the other end of the chamber, to the small vault on the other side; it was set into the wall, at the top of a small set of stairs. It near literally called for her to accelerate her approach, like a living entity that was aware of her presence; it beckoned her to hasten her steps, telling her not to approach causciously, but simply to run, to sprint ahead at full speed and collect what she had been waiting for since before she even knew of Umbrella's foul experiments.

Ada couldn't help but notice something else however, a small jolt of shock overlapping her anticipation momentarily at the sight of the glass tanks. Dozens of them, all lining the walls left and right of the room; though what lay within them was the real surprise; hordes of creatures, straightjacket monstrosities, all identical to the one she and Leon had fought in the decaying building on the surface of the island. The thing had almost forced them to kill each other, and now there were more of them; all eyes closed, all oblivious and sleeping, floating motionless with a clear liquid.

She couldn't believe how many of them there were, knowing the trouble she and Leon had been faced with in dealing with only one of them. Considering what it did to them Ada was glad that there hadn't been more at the time, but now she was seeing the beginnings of an army. For the first time since entering this morbid arena of the damned, Ada realised just how incredibly dangerous Patrick Wilforn really was. What he was working on could overshadow everything anyone had been seen before.

_If there is ever an incident in a populated area with these things– No! This isn't the time. Finish the mission and get the hell out of here. _

Ada pushed toward the vault, deciding that she would worry about Wilforn another day. But her excitement at her impending achievement was then shaken at its roots when she noticed something. As she reached the stairs leading up to the vault she saw that a small door within it was laying open, white light beaming from a single bulb within the small cubic space. There was enough light for her to clearly see that something else was wrong.

"No." she said, barely above a whisper.

Ada's emotions suddenly threatened to fall into a state of chaos. She closed the distance at a full fun, leaping up the steps, barely taking a single one. Her aching legs regained their power as she crossed the distance. When she reached the vault she saw it, the thing that had triggered her staggering fears. An immense state of shock and disbelief attacked her brain as her hopes and dreams were suddenly reduced to a cataclysmic wasteland.

An open case lay on a shelf inside the vault; several small indentations, where six long glass cylinders would have been placed were now empty. The contents of the case were gone. Ada stood silently, her wide and watery eyes locked on the empty case for what seemed like an eternity. Her mind rushed with grief, refusing to work as her world shattered around her. The retrieval of the case and it's much sort after contents were now nothing but a distance memory, leaving only the agonising knowledge, the painfully realisation, that her reason to live had just expired. Everything broke in her, seemingly all at once, and the renewed strength that her legs had only just been granted broke along with everything else.

"Now isn't that pathetic."

Ada's internal alarm at the presence of danger kicked in at the sound of the voice, coming from behind her. However due to her current state her reflexes and taken a drastic hit. She turned as quickly as she could, her sidearm raised, ready to take aim at her enemy. And then her gun hand was suddenly enveloped in a burning pain. Her handgun fell the floor a second later, followed closely and enthusiastically by drops of her own blood.

Ada saw the knife, it's bright steel imbedded in the back of her hand, with its point sprouting from her bloody palm. The pain wasn't the worst she had ever felt, but she knew removing it would be an unpleasant experience. She pushed the searing discomfort aside when she saw Daniel King, standing at the bottom of the stairs; his hateful yet amused eyes looking up at her, satisfaction swimming through those grey pools of malice like craving sharks. He held another knife in one hand as he kept his casual stance.

"Are you surprised?" he said. "Did you really think this would have a fairy tale ending, luv?"

"Where is it?" Ada's rage returned to full fury at the sight of him, knowing that he must have moved the samples himself. A small ray of hope returned to mingle with her anger. "Where! Where's the virus, Daniel?"

"Rapture2309 will never fall into the Organisation's hands, or yours," he replied, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "It's what you deserve. Ahhh look at you now, Ada; you're like fangless cobra, no venom left to speak of. None. What. So. Ever."

Ada didn't have time for this. "I'm giving you one last chance, Daniel!" Ada growled, whilst slowly and painfully pulling the knife free from her hand; she was almost certain that it had missed anything important, but wasn't completely sure. "Tell me what it is, NOW!"

"No," he said simply. "You're wasting your time. It doesn't matter what you do; it wont bring little Stacey back."

"Don't you ever say her name!"

Ada switched the knife to her injured hand, and quickly retrieved her sidearm, lifting the weapon up once more, pulling the trigger from her crouched position on the floor. King shot into motion, darting away from the first bullet that she fired; her aim and previous distractions slowed her reaction as King kicked the gun from her grasp, sending it tumbling off down the stairs. Ada got to her feet, only just avoiding the killer's knife as it whistled through the air, mere inches from her throat. She switched her knife again, attacking with as much force as she could gather.

King ducked the first blow as quickly as he had the bullet, moving as she drove forward with her strike and sending his elbow into her back. Ada grunted with the harsh force as she staggered down the steps, losing balance and falling hard onto her back at the base of the stairs. She couldn't allow herself a moments rest, and began trying to locate her gun when another impact collided with her face, sending blood streaming from her mouth as she rolled across the ground. The knife left her hand during the tumble, clattering somewhere out of her vision.

Ada fought through the blows as best she could, but was unable to rise before King was on her. She brought her hands up desperately, grabbing at his wrist as the assassin brought his knife down. Even with the pain running through her body, she wasn't sure how it was possible that his arm was still drawing closer to her neck; both hands struggling but failing to halt the blade's slow and taunting approached. Ignoring the taste of her own blood, she forced herself to concentrate. She had to live. She had to survive and beat a confession out of King, no matter what it took for her to do it.

Her legs moved upward; King was crouching at her side so she could still move them easily, bringing them up and wrapping around his neck. In that moment Ada twisted her body forcefully, flipping the man over her. She watched as Phantom landed in a quick roll before rising again. Getting to her feet also, she spat blood from her mouth, then raised her tightly clenched fists, regarding King with a steely gaze. She was going to get answers.

"Ya know, Ada, you don't look so good."

"Really," she sneered. "Because I _feel_ fantastic."

"Yes, I remember."

Ada felt her frown deepen even further. "I said where's the sample, you son of a bitch?"

"Ya know, I can't remember where I put it,"

"Daniel!"

King stared back at her with a wide-eyed madness playing over his face. Twirling the knife in his hand, he threw it into the air, catching it repeatedly. "Now what did I do with it? Did I secure it somewhere? Or did I destroy? I just can't recall for the life of me."

Ada cried out as she charged for him, fully committed to hurting him as much as she possibly could before getting to the truth of things. The blind rage she was now feeling blocked out the fact that hurting him wouldn't be easy, and that getting him to talk would be even less likely. But she didn't care anymore. She had to try.

King threw his knife, and Ada barely had the time to adjust her advance to avoid it. Nevertheless she was successful, closing the distance before dodging an oncoming punch; she sidestepped the strike, sending her own fist into King's face with as much power as she could. He staggered a couple of feet backward, a small sickening half smile appearing on his ghostly face. She closed in again, her anger overtaking whatever instincts she had possessed a few minutes ago.

For a time they simply darted back and forth, Ada throwing short fast jabs, and aiming kicks at King's knees in an attempt to bring him down. King retaliated with his own assault. For a few moments they remained that way, both blocking and avoiding the other; Ada back-flipped away from a spinning kick he sent toward her gut, and then she moved in again. Ada knew he was fast, but then of course so was she, even now. Her fists were clenched, she bared the pain in her left hand, not allowing it to get in the way. She couldn't afford to lose here, not after how far she had come.

Ada ducked a strike from the hitman, ducking under his arm and unleashing several punches to King's ribcage; blocking his arm as it came back for her with her left hand, she then struck out with her the elbow of her right arm, only to have King reverse his head, barely avoiding a collision between her elbow and his eye socket. And then one of Ada's legs gave out as King threw a kick to her shin, sending her momentarily off balance. She backed away from another attack, then parrying another punch, Ada leapt forward, head-butting King in the face; the impact sent a rushing wave of dizziness through her. Ada barely stopped, letting out a blood-curdling scream as she directed a kick, sending her leg swinging through the air with every ounce of strength she had; her foot connected sickeningly with the side of King's neck, sending him stumbling to his knees.

Ada readied herself to continue; although she also thought she heard a terrible sound in the instant that her kick collided with him. Her body was on fire, from the previous conflicts on the island, all the way to this fight now. But she stood her ground, ready for more. She would _always_ be ready for more.

"Nice one," King said, cracking his neck to one side. "You got me good there, sweetheart."

The crunch that almost echoed out in the room, when King snapped his neck into place, was a stomach turning sound, but that wasn't what Ada was paying attention to now. A small gasp of breath passed out of her when she saw that King was standing up, brushing his outfit off, as if nothing had happened. And then he turned back to her.

"I thought you would have caught on by now," he said. "When we first met you were my match. But I think I should tell you that the rules have undergone a slight change."

Ada's eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"Oh, its nothing special," he replied, his smile horridly blooming again. "I could go through all the boring details, but then why would you care for any of them. In any event, it's irrelevant. Now, would you care to try again?"

"Where's the sample?"

King let out a short bark of a laugh. "You really have to let go, you know. If you persist you'll just die faster, and I need you alive long enough for Mr Kennedy to arrive. How am I supposed to see the look on your face when I've killed him, if you're already dead?"

Ada felt every muscle in her face pull tight, almost ripping themselves to pieces. "Leon has nothing to do with you."

"Leon has _everything_ to do with me," King replied. "He became a part of this game the moment you spared him in Spain, not to mention his ability to survive me, because that was a priceless effort on his part. I must admit, I was shocked to find how much you really cared for him," he paused, grinning from ear to ear. "It's truly vomit inducing, the lengths you two will go to for each other.

"Shut up, Daniel!"

"When I cut off his head, and dangle it in front of your wailing face, I want you to have that look frozen in time when I put you in the ground. If I could I'd take a picture, and I'd _even_ frame it. Perhaps Wesker could put it on his desk – the head I mean, not the picture."

Ada had had enough. She wouldn't let it happened; Leon wasn't going to die because of the decisions she had made in the past two weeks. She charged directly into King, and he made no attempt to stop her. Within a blur of movement she had tackled him onto his back, straddling his stomach. She was breathing hard, letting out waves of fury from where she sat, as she threw down punch after punch, her fists crashing into King's face with a crushing force that should have rendered him a half wit in seconds. Her fists ached from the blows, sending shocking vibrations all the way up to her shoulders. Only he didn't react, as if the pain was either manageable or nonexistent.

King's hands shot up after a swarm of hits had forced blood from his mouth. His fingers grasped Ada's arms, prying them away, forcing anger that Ada didn't even know she possessed to rush forward with an exploding frustration.

"Not that I don't enjoy having you on top," he said, stopping just long enough to lick blood from his lips. "But if you beat me senseless, how will you ever know where the sample is. And how will Stacey benefit from that?"

"I said don't say her name!"

Suddenly Ada was flung off of King, his arms yanking her own off to the side, where she rolled across the ground, coming to stop a couple of metres away from him. She got to her feet shakily, her eyes peering through strands of her hair, at the man who was now standing also. He was then moving towards her, and at a surprisingly quickened pace. Ada broke into a run for the stairs, hoping to retrieve her gun. She didn't know what King had done to himself, but it was apparent now that a few bullets in the right places might be the only way to immobilise him. She didn't need him dead yet.

She saw it, lying just at the bottom of the steps. Ada cursed herself for not noticing earlier. Within seconds she had grasped it from the floor, and was then twirling to point and shoot. But as she turned around, King was already right there. His hand wrapped around her wrist before she could raise the gun, keeping it forced away from him. His other hand held another one of his knives, which he then thrust towards her. Ada reached out with her free hand, grasping at his clenched fingers; the blade stopped before reaching her neck, but as she fought to push the knife back, she saw that it was still steadily creeping towards her throat. Her energy was beginning to fade; if she had been at full strength this battle might have been resolved to her liking, but as the seconds ticked on she knew that King's blade was about to end her, or at the very least cause an injury that would render her helpless. After all, he had said it himself: he didn't want her dead, yet.

"You think you can just take the sample and walk out of here?" King said, grinning through bloody teeth. "And after all your misdeeds as well. I know every filthy detail of your necessary evils, Ada Wong. Your boyfriend, John, who worked for Umbrella; you remember him don't you," the knife was nearly touching her skin. "He loved you and you used him for your own ends, just like everyone else who's ever entered your shit storm existence."

"You don't know anything about me!" Ada strained against him, but her time was almost up.

"Oh I think I do," he replied. "How are you any different from me? The world wants you gone, just like me, and just like Wesker. Even if you survive this and return to some fable of a normal life, after all these years of betrayal and death anyone with any measure of sense would recoil from the very sight of you. So tell me, who would care if I bled you dry right now?"

"I can think of someone," a voice called out from the entrance to the chamber. "That would be me, shit for brains."

Ada was riddled with disbelief when she saw Leon entering the room, his gun up and trained on their enemy's head. Once he had closed in Ada pulled herself free from a distracted King, aiming her gun also as she backed away from the hitman, joining Leon, who briefly shot a concerned glance at her, probably noticing the state she was in.

_Thank you, Leon._

"You ok, Ada?" Leon asked, keeping his eyes on King.

"Yeah," she replied, breathing heavy. "I'll be fine," and then she gripped her gun more firmly, staring down King, who hadn't moved to intercept either of them. "Now tell me where it is, Daniel. Where's the sample?"

"Ada," Leon cut in. "I think we might have bigger problems right now,"

"Please, Leon," she whispered. "You don't know how important this is to me. I never thought I would say this, but I'll explain everything once I'm done here."

She saw Leon out the corner of her eye, measuring her with what she knew was a questioning glance; after a couple of seconds he nodded, and then looked back to King. "Well, you heard the lady; tell her what she wants to know, or I swear you'll be toast before you hit the ground."

King's smile never left his face. He raised his hands in a parody of surrender. "Mr Kennedy. I've been looking forward to our next little party. How are your neighbours doing by the way?'

"You wont get the chance to hurt anyone else, Phantom," Leon replied, and Ada heard as well as felt the distain in his voice. "I don't think you can dodge more than one bullet at the same time."

"You've got five seconds, Daniel," Ada said. "So just give up. Don't make this worse than it has to be. You're outnumbered."

"Oh am I," King hissed through his smile. "Why don't we ask good old Mr W what _he _thinks of that, shall we?"

Ada didn't even need to hear the entrance made by the other person. A cold shiver ran through her as she looked over her shoulder; and there he was, standing in the doorway. A satisfied smile pulled the corners of his mouth upward.

"Wesker!" Ada said, almost chokingly, which roused Leon's attention as well.

"Miss Wong," he said. "And Mr Kennedy. I see you've all been making friends; in fact you're just in time. If I were you, I'd say your goodbyes now."

* * *

_Another chapter shouldn't take too long, hopefully_ :)_ I hope you guys like this chapter. Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought, feedback of any kind is always appreciated. Bye for now._


	18. Chapter 18

_Another qui__ck update for a change. Again, I hope you all like this chapter. And again, I don't own Resident Evil, or any of it's characters._**  
**

* * *

**Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 18**

Ada backed up a couple of steps, her mind taking a moment to adjust to the alteration of events, as her former employer strode into the chamber. Albert Wesker was radiating a twisted confidence as he moved slowly in her direction.

Of everything that could have transpired on this night, of the things she wanted least to take place, this outcome ranked as second on her list. She didn't want this, and certainly didn't need it. She had been hoping to all that was merciful to avoid running into Wesker. And now here he was, in all his cunning and maniacal glory. His eyes remained hidden beneath his shades as always, though she read enough from his facial muscles to know that his fury toward her was ever present, hidden just beneath a thin layer of composure.

Never taking her eyes from him, her peripheral revealed that Leon still had his weapon raised toward King; she couldn't see was he was doing, as she hadn't removed her gaze from Wesker, but she assumed that he hadn't made a move yet. The situation had the potential to blow up in her face as well as Leon's. Whatever she and the agent were going to do, it was going to have to be something monstrously spectacular if they wanted to be breathing when the sun came up.

"Leon S. Kennedy," Wesker said, his tone laced with a deep irritation. "This is the first time we have ever met, although that hasn't hindered you in causing me considerable trouble."

"Happy to be a nuisance. I'll be here all week," the agent replied, keeping his back to Wesker.

Wesker smirked, and as Ada saw this she wondered if Leon would ever run out of cocky remarks for the enemy? But snappy comebacks were the last thing on her mind, and she preyed that Leon knew just how dangerous this man really was. Underestimating Wesker, especially when he was right in front of you, was a fool's game.

"Oh my," Wesker sighed. "Your smart mouth isn't going to save your life, I'm afraid. You've cost me much; and to tell you truthfully, this is going to be a pleasure."

"The pleasure's all mine," Leon replied. "But I'm sure you've got other guys in your goon-squad besides Krauser," the agent paused. "I mean, you've got _this_ crazy sack of shit on your payroll."

"I'm not crazy, Mr Kennedy," Ada heard King respond. "I'm just honest."

"Krauser?" Wesker said. "You think I'm going to end you because of _his_ death?" he chuckled. "I can obtain expendable soldiers like him from any dark crevice in the Earth. No, your crime against my efforts has nothing to do with him."

"Wesker, its me you want," Ada said, trying to hold her frustration at bay. "Leave Leon out of this, he has nothing to do with it."

"Actually he does," Wesker ceased his steady advance, now standing only ten feet away from the duo. "It's your fault; _you_ should have left him out of this, Miss Wong. In the end you only have yourself to blame."

King's freakish chuckles echoed through the room. "I think someone's about to witness the death of her boy-toy,"

"Shut up, Phantom!" Leon barked.

"Just calling it as I see it, Mr Kennedy," King replied. "You'll have to forgive me for my bluntness."

Ada violently loathed this situation, and hated Wesker and King more than either man could ever truly know. She wished that the rounds inside her gun could kill Wesker; for too long the man had run her life; every move closely watched, every word spoken, heard by him. Like King he was haunting her, tracing her steps wherever she went. It was a constant reminder of every soul selling deal she'd been forced to make in her life. Both men sickened her.

"You were one of my best operatives, Ada," Wesker said.

"Got to hell!" she spat. "I'm not your servant anymore."

"You were so talented," he continued. "You were cold, merciless, decisive; you always got the job done in the end," Ada watched as a wave of irritation spread across his face. "And then you encountered this… this tiny man in Raccoon City. Everything changed after that. The small ray of hope ignited within you again, didn't it? You fell in love with this man. But when you parted ways you knew that you could never see him again; as long as I was still looking over your shoulder you knew it wouldn't be safe for him. Your interaction with Leon brought your once dead humanity back to the surface, giving you new hope that perhaps the goal you had set out to accomplish might still be within reach. That was when you changed, working behind my back with The Organisation."

Ada's grip constricted further around the handle of her gun, her trigger finger literally itching. "If you knew this all along then why didn't you just kill me back then? It would have saved you a lot of trouble in the end."

"Because, Miss Wong, you were still a capable tool," Wesker said. "I thought I could still utilise your skills to serve my agenda. But then the Plagas retrieval operation came about; I had thought that you might have forgotten all about this little pest by then. And then I ordered you to kill him, and I could practically taste your internal struggle; the same love that compromised you back then allowed you to keep the Plagas sample from me. And now you're completely useless to me in every way, and it's all thanks to this government lapdog. He truly is your Achilles heel."

"Jesus," Leon almost groaned. "Do all you narcissists love the sounds of your own voices that much? Seriously, are you done, or do we get more of this crap? And how is that my fault?"

Astonishment wasn't specifically the emotion that Ada felt at Leon's unflinching calm, but it was something resembling such. He had never seen Wesker in combat before; he may have heard stories, but that didn't mean he was in any way prepared for what would happen once Wesker had decided to become directly involved in violence. Brave as he was, if he didn't take the man's capabilities seriously, he'd pay for it in buckets of blood. Ada didn't want that, in fact she'd do almost anything to avoid it.

"If Miss Wong had never met you, then the good person she once was would never have resurfaced," Wesker answered the agent. "She'd never have continued on with her true mission,"

"Wesker!" Ada couldn't let him make the first move; as dangerous as he was, she had no intention at all of backing down now. "Shut your mouth."

"She never would have re-embarked on her quest she had committed herself to ten years ago, to– "

"Shut up!" Ada yelled, her finger rushing to pull the trigger.

* * *

Leon wasn't altogether sure he believed what he saw next; he had heard stories of course, from Chris mainly, but nothing prepared the mind for what the eyes revealed to it at this very moment.

Wesker dodged the bullet, but not in the same way that Phantom did; the man Ada had called Daniel had moved out of the path of Leon's bullets before the trigger had ever been pulled. Wesker, on the other hand, was fast enough to wait for the bullet to leave the chamber before he ever had to move. His speed was spellbinding to see, what little he could see; Leon thought that if he blinked he might miss the man's evasive action. More shots erupted from Ada's sidearm, but the man simply blurred out of focus, avoiding those just as easily as the first. Leon's optimism had just taken a hard hit between the legs.

A loud gasp escaped Leon when he saw Wesker close in, hitting Ada hard enough to throw her into the air, as if her body weight meant nothing. He watched as she crashed to the floor a few feet away, struggling breath as she came to her hands and knees. But Leon's concern was suddenly yanked a hundred and eighty degrees when he felt a very powerful hand grasp his throat, followed by the unbelievable force that shot through as body as he was lifted from the ground by that same hand. He tried to raise his gun, yet Wesker's other hand clasped around his wrist, keeping the gun subdued at Leon's side.

Oxygen had fled from his body, and now Leon was struggling to pry Wesker's unfathomably strong fingers away from his neck. This desperate action did no good, and the seconds were ticking down to zero quicker than Leon's brain could count. If he didn't do something soon he was going to die. His clouded vision saw the faint image of Ada, now on her feet and trying to reach him; however Phantom was standing in her way. She wouldn't get to him in time.

It was absolutely no use; Wesker was indeed as powerful as Redfield had said; the ex S.T.A.R.S point man hadn't been a match for this lunatic either. Leon couldn't see himself doing much better to overcome an adversary such as this, not without a swarm of firepower to help him finish the job. Despite this knowledge he wasn't prepared to die just yet. In all his life he had never backed down from anyone; Wesker was just another bully, just like those kids from school, and Leon would rather rot in the dirt than relent to some sadistic madman on super steroids.

Using all the force he could gather, Leon brought his knee up, crashing it against Wesker's chin; the initial strike did nothing, but three more equally strong collisions seemed to register some discomfort across the man's face, and to Leon's relief, Wesker actually released him from his lethal grasp. He quickly aimed his gun, firing off rounds with rapid pulls of the trigger. Again, Wesker dodged, almost phasing out of visibility entirely. As this continued, Leon saw that Ada was fighting with Phantom; it was obvious – judging from the way he traded blows with her – that he was simply trying to delay her rather than beat her. Leon had to try and get past Wesker, somehow.

Then a single bullet struck Wesker, and he stopped. Leon ran empty, speedily ejecting the spent clip, letting it clang against the floor as he hastily reloaded. He blew moist strands of hairs from his eyes, and then gave out a short cough to try and clear his throat from the previous throttling. _Jesus,_ he thought,_ feels like I've swallowed a cheese grater_. Wesker stood there, looking back at Leon; his expression blank as a faint trickle of blood dripped down his forehead. He was shocked to see what happened next; the bullet hadn't penetrated the skull. Wesker's freakish regeneration cycle was forcing it out of his skin, until it fell from his head, coming to a useless halt on the ground.

"Shit!" Leon growled. _This guy's like a goddamn machine; if the next words out of his mouth are hasta la vista baby I think I might shoot myself._

Leon fired off more rounds as Wesker closed the distance. The bullets weren't so lucky this time; Leon threw a kick in his direction as he closed in, though Wesker effortlessly snatched Leon's leg out of the air, his grip apparently applied with more force than before, threatening to tear through the flesh of his calf. He felt his body being lifted, his world becoming nothing but a fleeting splash of unfocused colour. The detail shifted away from his perception as he was thrown through the air, catapulted sightlessly, wondering for a split second just how much trouble he was going to be in when he touched down. The very last sensation was one of pain, shaking through his skull before inviting him into a dreamy blackness.

* * *

Ada rolled back onto her feet, only to see Leon's unconscious body. He lay there, five feet away to her left. She feared the worst when she saw that he wasn't moving, and bleeding from his head; the surface of her skin froze over in what would have felt like a thin skeet of ice if she had of cared to fully register it. However the only thing she felt was fear, fear that Leon wouldn't stand again.

Without another thought hindering her, Ada made her way towards the fallen agent; at first she thought that King might have tried to intercept her, but instead she had watched very briefly as he staggered away, clutching at his head, apparently consumed by the kind of twisted pain that he deserved. Ada would have relished the sight if not for Leon's unmoving form on the ground.

"Having trouble, are we, Phantom?" she heard Wesker say somewhere of to her right. "Your condition is worsening; perhaps a higher dosage might be– "

"Of course it's worsening!" King snarled. "The more this thing gives, the more it takes away. It's always been that way. It needs to be stabilised, permanently."

"But not gone?" Wesker said.

Ada almost squirmed at the sound of King's laughter. "Before this, death never had a face. Now it has, and it's fucking glorious!"

_What the hell has that monster been shooting into his body,_ Ada wondered?

She swelled with a wild relief when Leon eyes began to open. He wasn't as badly injured as she had thought, just taking a knock to the head that should have brained him; this man, she thought, had the greatest fortune of anyone she had ever met. She hoped this luck could extend to the both of them for the next few minutes.

Helping him to sit up, he gave her a small but uncomfortable nod. And then she saw Wesker and King, both moving in their direction; vile designs waltzed across their cruel faces as they came forward. Ada knew that she had only one chance, and it was a margin that was growing slimmer by the second. If she couldn't get Leon and herself away in the next couple of seconds, then they would both be meat for the sharks.

"_Well, I have to say,_" I voice called out, from every corner of the large chamber. Wesker and King halted their advance. "_This has all been thoroughly entertaining, hasn't it?_"

Ada guessed that there must have been a speaker within the chamber, perhaps several, as the voice appeared to have come from everywhere. It only took her a second to realise who the owner of that amused voice was; whether that amusement was merely to shield Wilforn's desperation at his descending control, Ada couldn't know for certain.

"Mr Wilforn," Wesker said, looking about the space of the room. "If you're thinking of trying to cut a deal with me, then you're only wasting your time, and mine. This facility is now under my control."

Ada wasn't sure what Patrick Wilforn was planning, but she was grateful for the intrusion. If he hadn't have entered into the situation with his unintentional rescue then both she and Leon might not have been quite so lucky. Leon seemed better as the seconds whipped by, but it wouldn't make any difference at all if they didn't get moving soon.

"_Oh yes_," Wilforn replied. "_I can see your men right now, scouring every corner for me as we speak_," Ada didn't hear anything in that voice that suggested the man had lost any control at all. He was either foolish or a brilliant liar? Or he really hadn't lost anything? "_You've exterminated the remaining B.O.W's within the underground,_" Wilforn went on. "_All my security staff are dead. And you also have what's left of the labs. You are without doubt an efficient man, aren't you, Albert Wesker?_"

"And I will find you eventually, Wilforn. Of that I can assure you."

"_Even if you do, you'll never leave this place alive_,"

A mechanical female voice rocketed through the speakers at that moment, shocking the ears to an almost unusable state as it announced that the facility's self destruct sequence had just been triggered. Though it didn't state how long they had, and this forced Ada to clench her jaw hard. She couldn't leave until she obtained the sample from King. She helped Leon to his feet, and when she did she noticed that King was no longer there; somehow he had exited the chamber without being seen, passing out of existence without so much as a whisper.

_Damn it! I can't let him get away._

"Shit!" Leon said, trying to shake his foggy state away. "Why even announce the self destruct if you wanted to kill us, Wilforn? Why not just blow the place before we can leave?"

"_Oh, I'm sorry_," Wilforn replied. "_I almost forgot to mention my next surprise. Take a good look around you, and tell me what you see?_"

Ada didn't need to look – as she had seen enough of what the chamber contained to know what the old man was talking about – but she did anyway. Dozens of tall cylindrical tanks, each containing an equally hideous version of the straightjacket creature; and as she turned to view these many tanks she could already see that the fluids behind the glass were beginning to empty, and the things within were rousing. If any of them were still in the chamber when they woke up, none of them would last the next five minutes.

"Oh great," Leon said. "As if we didn't have enough to do."

There was a minor but still prominant edge to the young agent's voice, and Ada would have been lying through her teeth if she said that she didn't feel that same anxiety. Things were about to become vastly more complicated than they already were, if that was in any way possible. Apparently it was.

* * *

"_Mr Kennedy, Miss Wong_," Wilforn spoke again. "_I know you've faced my advanced version of these. While these have no telepathic abilities, they do possess the same level of telekinesis. I wish you the quickest death possible, but I wouldn't count on it if I were you. You have an hour and a half, starting now, to determine how you would like to meet your maker._"

Patrick Wilforn wasn't going to get away with this; Leon was certainly going to make sure of that, one way or the other. His head felt as if it had grown by three times the size; a concussion was more than possible at this stage. It hurt like hell, but he couldn't let it hinder his progress, or Ada's. If either of them wanted to get out of the facility before it was destroyed then he needed to gather what strength he had left. They had to find a way out, but he had to try and find Wilforn first. Phantom would have to wait. Wilforn had to be stopped; if his creations were to escape the facility and somehow found their way into a populated area then the death toll could be catastrophic.

_So we've got an hour and thirty minutes before the place goes up,_ Leon thought. _Thanks, Wilforn, that gives me just enough time to drag you out of whatever hole you're hiding in._

Leon's attention was drawn elsewhere, seeing that Wesker was strolling past them, heading for the door. He thought for a moment about turning his gun – the gun he was miraculously still holding – on the bastard's head. It only took a second for him to reconsider that particular course of action, not to mention the sudden and firm grip of Ada's hand on his shoulder; it appeared that she didn't find it to be much of an inspiring idea either. Trying to kill Wesker with a handgun had already failed miserably. If Leon wanted to really ruin the man's day he'd need something a lot bigger. Now wasn't the time, but he swore that the time would come.

"Well," Wesker said, strolling toward the door, his back to the both of them. "I suppose we'll have to pick this up later."

Leon turned back to Ada, seeing that she now had her eyes fixed fearfully on the tanks. He checked his sidearm for damage, but it had surprisingly managed to survive everything so far, showing less signs of wear and tear then he had by a good long way. _Lucky son of a bitch, _he thought.

"Leon, we need to go." Ada said, her voice riddled with deep urgency.

And then Leon saw it; the straightjackets were awake now, dead black eyes open and searching. Searching for prey. "That's the best idea I've heard all night."

They both ran for the door, their pains momentarily forgotten as they fled the chamber. Just as they reached the door Leon heard the startlingly sharp burst of exploding glass behind him.

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_I know this chapter was a little short compared to some, but that's just because I'm saving all the big stuff for the end. Hopefully you guys like what's coming. Bye for now._


	19. Chapter 19

_Chapter 19 finally done. Still working on my Leon oneshot, but I'm having trouble with it at the moment; I have a couple of ideas for it but I'm not sure which one I want to use yet, hopefully it wont take too long to write. Anyway, I hope you all like this latest chapter._**  
**

* * *

**Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 19**

Leon was grateful, feeling his strength returning. Despite the various things he had been through, not to mention his near death encounter with Wesker, he was more or less ready for more. Not that he especially wanted more at this stage. Both he and Ada were turning out to be having a night to remember. It wasn't his idea of the ideal date, but he supposed that considering his current company it might never be any different.

Neither he nor Ada had seen or heard any signs of the Straightjackets since making it out of the chamber. The fact that the both of them had managed to avoid a confrontation with those creatures didn't mean they wouldn't run into them again, he was more than aware of that. Leon wanted to find firepower that held up a little more than a handgun, or the going would prove to be even more troublesome. But even with all of these things, all these striking details swimming through his hammered thoughts, Leon still arrived back to the questions of the woman with him, and all the things that Wesker had spoke of, of the true mission she apparently had.

As they took steps through the underground, jogging down another passage, with Ada leading a metre ahead, Leon thought over these things, and the shear and startling gravity of the subjects that had recently been brought forth. He would never have considered himself stupid by any measure, but he was also convinced that he might not be the genius some thought him to be; in all this time he'd been aware of his own feelings for Ada Wong, but her feelings had always been a source of mystery, at least on some level. He knew she cared for him, romantically speaking. But loved him? Wesker had said the words himself, and while Leon was more than reluctant to take a rising megalomaniac at his word he had to wonder: did she actually love him? He never would have thought for a moment to place such an emotional connection along side someone like Ada. If that was really the case, then she had managed once again to surprise him. He wondered if the mystery of this intricate woman would ever truly be unravelled? Or would she have an endless river of secrets just waiting to be discovered, one by one.

The subject of Ada's feelings toward him would have to wait for another time; at the moment they had more pressing matters to attend to. However there were a few things he needed to know, and soon. Earlier he had told Ada that her objective was her own business, and for the most part he had meant it. But it seemed that now he had managed to wedge himself into her affairs, and was now fully involved in the tangled web of her past. He needed to know what had kept her going all this time. He deserved some kind of explanation.

She held a closed fist up as they reached a left turning in the passage, signalling for him to stop. Leon watched silently as Ada readied her handgun, pointing her head a fraction around the corner. Apparently it was clear, as Ada nodded back to him before continuing. The silence in this place was threatening and suffocating; nothing stirred, nothing that would indicate a threat on the approach, but Leon had seen enough to know that things that went bump in the night could also prowl with an uncanny stealth. Despite escaping the straightjackets they would still have to tread cautiously.

"There should be a cafeteria up ahead," Ada called over her shoulder. "We need to stop for a moment and figure things out,"

"Before finding Phantom, right?" Leon said. "He's got something you want."

"He's probably looking for Wilforn as we speak,"

"Good," Leon thought this simplified matters greatly. "Two birds, one stone."

After a couple more minutes they reached the door they had been looking for. The metal retracted up, opening the way for them; Ada stepped in first with Leon close behind, both scanning for any potential hostile that might be lurking the area. It didn't take long to see that the carnage that had taken place earlier was considerable and messy. At least a dozen bodies lay sprawled about the cafeteria floor, dotted about like wasted breadcrumbs. Tables and chairs were deserted and turned over, half eaten meals spilled across the floor, mingling with the coagulated blood of Wilforn's staff members.

Leon caught sight of the injuries that killed them; deep claw marks shredded through the flesh of the deceased. This was undoubtedly the work of B.O.W's. Wesker's people had nothing to do with this grizzly scene.

_We've got maybe an hour and fifteen minutes before this place goes to hell, _he thought anxiously. _We can't stay here long._

There wasn't any immediate danger. The situation could easily change, but for the time being they were both safe. Leon turned his full attention to Ada, who was still surveying the corpses that littered the ground. The tension still hadn't all together subsided, but he had a feeling that those same emotions were rushing through Ada even now. Still he couldn't help this, and now was the time to find out what was really going on.

"Ada," he said. "What the hell was that all about back there? What did Wesker mean, about your true mission?"

Ada shook her head, her eyes still scanning the ground. "Don't worry about it. It's not important right now."

"Like hell it's not important!" Leon brought his fist down, creating a low vibrating bang on the surface of a table. His sudden outburst caused Ada to jump a fraction. "I'm as knee deep in this freak show as you are, Ada. I need to know what's going on."

She didn't respond, but simply turned her back to him, as if to hide some overbearing emotion that she didn't want him to witness for anything. She remained still, frozen in the moment, in a seemingly catatonic state that Leon thought she'd never retract from. Whatever it was that she had promised to share, apparently it was too much for her. But in any case he was growing tired of the games; every time he had ever crossed paths with this beautiful enigma he had only ever been burdened with more questions. This was by far the most prominent thing about Ada Wong that annoyed him; the secrecy, the discovery of her intentions when it became too late to seize any kind of opportunity. He'd be damned if this mission of hers would end with her gun to his head again. He couldn't take that a second time, he was sure of it.

"Ada," he forced his raging irritation down, softening his voice as best he could. "Please, just tell me what's going on. I can't help you if you wont let me."

"You've never waited for my permission, Leon," she replied, keeping her face from his sight. Her voice was shaky and reluctant. "Always throwing yourself into the fire to save the day. I've given you nothing but trouble, and still you keep risking yourself for me."

Leon moved away from the table, stepping just a little closer. "Maybe I believe that there's more to you than you like to show. And I'd be right, wouldn't I?"

"Is that what you think?" Ada said in a tone filled with warning. "I'm no poster child for good deeds, Leon. I'm not a reluctant hero who's going to do the right thing in the end. Honestly, I'm not sure I would know how to be anything else after so long."

"You saved me more than once," Leon replied. "And I don't believe for a minute that it was for any selfish reason. Ok, maybe you needed my help back in Spain to thin the numbers a little, so you could get to that Plaga sample. But you didn't need to stop Krauser when he had me under his knife, and you know it. You could have walked away, only you didn't."

"Well I suppose you got me there," Ada replied, and there was a brief silence before she continued. "I couldn't tell you back then. It turns out Wesker always suspected, but if he had known for sure… '

Leon slowly made his way over to her, as her ice-like control faded away. He placed his hand on her shoulder, his breath catching for a moment as Ada's hand began to rise, finding its way into his as she kept her back to him.

He didn't like to see her in this way. Feeling her hand trembling in his, filling him up with something he couldn't say he had experienced much in his life – if ever. Yet her touch, despite what had been happening, was intoxicating. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to close in and hold her, to tell her that everything would be fine; that whatever things pained her didn't matter because he would be there for her. But until he knew what they were dealing with he couldn't even begin to make such an extreme choice. He needed her to trust him.

"Ada," he said. "What is this mission? What are you looking for?"

Ada's body expanded in a deep breath. And then she began to speak. "For the past ten years I've been searching for Stacey Wong. My younger sister."

Leon wasn't completely sure why he was surprised by what he'd just been told. When he really thought about it he realised that he didn't know Ada that well at all, other than the emotionally solid persona she wore in her activities – with the things they had both been up against in their lives. But family was something so simple in many ways, something that everyone had; it was the fact that Ada was talking about such a thing, a sister, which surprised him. He felt her grip on his hand constrict as she went on speaking.

"I was only twenty years old, living and studying in the United States at the time. Stacey was on a trip to Hong Kong with my father," she paused, taking another deep breath. "We had always been so close - best friends. She was... everything to me."

Leon was overtaken by these revelations; finally he was seeing the Ada that was hidden, buried beneath all of her manufactured professionalism, under the cold and sometimes playful exterior that she wore for world. He was now seeing the real Ada, the one with a sister, the sister who she had lost long before she and Leon had ever crossed paths.

"I received a call from my father one day, telling me that she was dead," Ada continued. "She'd been on a short trip to a town on the mainland. Apparently there had been a fire that had wiped out the town. But my father wasn't convinced; he said he'd seen the body they had in the morgue and knew that something wasn't right, nothing blindingly obviously, but still, he didn't believe it was her, and after speaking with him neither did I."

"Someone covered something," Leon said, in more of a statement rather than a question.

"Yes," Ada nodded. "I left for china that very day. I spent weeks asking questions about the fire, but nothing I could do would uncover anything relating to a cover up. When it seemed like I was fighting a losing battle I was approached by someone, a man claiming to have friends within an organisation; he claimed that someone had hidden something, saying that the fire was the work of Umbrella. He was trying to gather information in order to cripple the company for its foul activities. He claimed that the town's people, along with my sister, had been abducted as test subjects for whatever disgusting work they were conducting at the time."

"So this organisation was a rival to Umbrella?" Leon asked.

"They were. And let's just say they put me in a position to investigate more thoroughly. I worked and trained myself as hard as possible to get where I needed to be. I became a spy for those people, people who were really no different from Umbrella; I grew to realise that with time, but I had to find her. I took on assignments that would take me further into Umbrella's dirty secrets. I didn't matter what I had to do in order to find her. To me that ends would always justify the means."

There were still some things that Leon didn't understand. "How does Wesker fit in to this?"

"He left Umbrella after the incident with the Arklay facility. I assume you know about that?"

Leon nodded. "I've heard about it."

"Wesker gained employ within The Organisation, but ultimately his sights were set even higher up the food chain. Sadly that's how I had the misfortune of working with him. It was two years after Stacey's disappearance that I met him, as he had been meeting with my emplorers even then; the truth is I had lost all hope of finding her by that point. In all that time nothing had been discovered as to what might have become of her," her voice was wracked with a deadly guilt as she went on. "I was so consumed by my job as Wesker's spy. I hated him but I never truly realised just how much I had changed in such a short time, how cold and selfish I became; never considering the feelings or cares of others in anything."

Ada slowly turned around, her blood shot eyes staring into his. In those entrapping eyes he saw the agony of loss, of a decade of longing and searching. He found that he couldn't judge her in this moment. Was it because he loved her, he wondered? Or was it really that he understood her actions to save something so dear to her? It could possibly be both? Although he didn't know for sure, and at the time he really didn't care.

"And then I met you," she said. "The way you pushed yourself, trying your best to protect me; blindly charging in without any thought for your own well being. It reminded me so much of myself in my search for Stacey. The Organisation I work for had promised me that they would do all they could to help me locate her, providing I help them. They were the ones I gave the Plagas to, not Wesker. He was readying himself to break away from them and they had ordered me to keep the sample from him."

"This mission on the island," Leon said, already aware of what her success would result in, considering the chaotic flood of feeling he had witnessed all night. "This is the last, isn't it?"

"If I can find Phantom and make him talk, then yes," she said. "I can't fail here, Leon. The Organisation claim to have a precise list of locations my sister could have been taken. But they wont help me if I don't complete this assignment."

"But Ada, after all this time– "

"She might already be lost to me," Ada finished for him. "Yes, I know. Chances are she's long gone. But I need to know for sure. I need this nightmare to end."

Leon had been sure of one thing when he made his decision to board the plane from America: he was going to do whatever he could to make sure that Ada didn't meet a gruesome death at hands of Phantom, or Wesker. Now he was certain of something else, so certain that this new conviction thrived powerfully within him. With the impending arrival of his back-up team he knew he couldn't afford to take too long, for fear that Ada would be apprehended. But nevertheless, with everything he now knew, there was only one thing that he was sure of.

"Ada, I want you to listen to me," he said, placing both hands on her shoulders. "You're going to get this done, and find your sister, because I'm going to help you get that sample back."

"You cant," she replied, her voice beaten with surprise. "If your government found out that you've helped me– "

"Ada," he cut her off. "I never mentioned you in my Spain report. They don't even know you were there."

Ada's eyes widened to an unbelievable size at his words. "Leon!" she almost gasped. "Why in the world would you put yourself at risk like that? What you are doing is crazy."

Leon supposed he couldn't exactly argue with such a statement. "You might think so," he said. "But there's been an hole in my heart for six years now. I thought you were dead this whole time. And then I saw you again two weeks ago, alive and well, and that hole was filled up. It's always been you, Ada. No matter what I do, or where I go, it always comes back to you and how I've always felt. I would never turn over to my government."

"Thank you, Leon."

He felt himself smile. "You don't need to thank me."

"I do," she replied, trying to shake her tears away. "I owe you so much. You were the one who made me see what I had become. You woke me up. You gave me a reason to live."

Leon felt his heart pounding within his chest, and the violence and death that had plagued them throughout their times together was temporarily washed away in that moment as his love for this woman empowered his tired body with new strength. For this person, he'd be willing to do anything.

"You should have told me you were still alive," he whispered. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Ada whispered in return.

Ada's face had barely moved an inch toward Leon's before he reacted to her movements. The moment their lips touched Leon would have been perfectly happy with doing away with all of this; with forgetting all about Phantom and Wesker and everything else in every corner of his life. Her breath swept across his mouth in a low gasp, and the rate of his heart increased to a thundering roar, punching against his ribcage furiously as he felt her arms encircle his waist, as he did the same. He didn't want to release her. He didn't want her to leave. All he wanted, the only he cared about, was this.

A low moan rose from somewhere, out of Leon's immediate field of vision, as it was blanketed by Ada at present. His body tensed at the realisation that they weren't alone anymore. And then her body also acted in the same rigidity. Ada had heard it as well. That perfect moment came to an annoyingly abrupt end as they reluctantly broke their embrace, readying their guns toward the open cafeteria. They both checked for any possible intruder; Leon found it highly unlikely that there had been a threat within the area the entire time. He would have picked up on it before it had a chance to bring any kind of further disorder to a day that was, in Leon's opinion, crawling with disorder.

And then it happened; Leon and Ada looked toward the dead, as the ripped open staff began to slowly and very drunkenly pull themselves to their feet. _T-virus creatures must have killed them. Shit!_ Their lifeless eyes locked in on the duo, their bloodied and slack mouths laying open, groaning and wanting for flesh to devour. They were like wind-up toys with only the need to feed possessing them; every other trace of what they once were was eradicated entirely.

Leon watched as Ada fired off a round, nailing one of the walking dead between its eyes. The creature's body gave out, collapsing to the ground without a slither of protest. He saw that look on her face, a hardened realisation that some things just never changed. The dozen strong horde rose up slowly, and while Leon was confident that they could take each one down he wasn't all that enthusiastic about wasting ammo on a threat that, as long as distance was respected, was more or less low level next to everything else.

"Those things from the surface," Ada said. "They must be T-virus creations."

Leon nodded, counting the seconds before they would both be within arms reach of these pitiful things. "Never thought I'd ever see these guys again. Umbrella and all it's bullshit just follows us everywhere."

"Just like old times," Ada flashed him with a quick smile. "And it's about to get worse if we don't secure ammunition. I think there's an armoury a level up from here."

Leon followed her as she led him out of the cafeteria, and away from the hungry jaws of the former humans. He remembered very well that they were slow shambling things with no intelligence to speak of, which had come as something of a godsend during Raccoon City. But then again, he also knew well enough that there were far worse things lurking the passages of the underground, hunting for them both. Leon preyed that he and Ada were able to accomplish what both of them needed to before running into these unseen terrors.

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_**Another one done.** Again, I hope you like it. Also the end wont be far off now, although I'm having sort of a problem with something; I probably shouldn't say this so soon but I've got some ideas for a sequel that was going to be set not long after this story, but ever since finishing **Resident Evil 6** I've been thinking about setting it after that, and have come up with a few ideas for it. I would like to know what you guys think I should do: should I write the sequel and set it right after this story, or should I continue it on from 6? I could do both, but if I do then the Res 6 follow-on won't include the same plot and will be completely different, as in Ada won't have a sister in that one and characters like Phantom or my other OC's from _Secrets Revealed_ wont be there. If you could let me know which one you would like to see - or both - I would luv that. Anyway, thanks for being patient with me. Bye for now._


	20. Chapter 20

_Hi again! Sorry for taking so long in updating. I really hope you all like this chapter. Loads of thanks to everyone who has kept up with this story so far, you're all awesome!_

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**Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 20  
**

Wilforn couldn't hear what was happening, what was now taking place close by. But he could feel it, as if only metres away from where he sat. She was near; the girl who he had first had the supreme shock of seeing on the surface was now wandering through his uncovered domain. Although Wilforn thought that perhaps wandering wasn't the correct term for what she was doing. She was seeking, walking with a crystal and lethal purpose; he had seen evidence of her intent, by her grimacing anger and the focus of her movements, at least until the cameras went dead. That was of course to say every camera the girl stepped within range of had fallen useless to him, as if she knew someone was watching, proceeding to pluck out each of these prying eyes one by one.

He continued to reach out, feeling the satisfaction that she felt as she tore another door away, ripping and shredding it from its frame. Impressed was in fact not a good enough word to describe this; she made it seem so easy, like tearing paper with a mere gesture of her fingers. The locking mechanism of the door was destroyed, as waves of telekinetic energy removed her latest obstacle from her path. Wilforn wasn't positive, but this girl might have already been aware that the doors opened upon approach, but obviously didn't want to deprive herself of the joy that thrillingly raced within the act of such destruction.

_She always possessed that vicious streak_, he thought, almost humorously._ Even as a little girl she loathed anything that kept her from what she wanted._

Even now, as Wilforn used his abilities to keep track of her movements through the complex, he still couldn't believe it was really her. He had to wonder, why would Spencer keep her from him? At the very least he could have told Wilforn that Lisa was still alive? Only he hadn't. He had kept the truth from ever crossing his attention, and he hated Spencer for that.

Wilforn had been told that Lisa had died not long after leaving his care, due to some accident with an experiment they had been running on her. Wilforn had of course scanned Spencer's mind, though it seemed that the old man had arranged his thoughts masterfully, conjuring images and words within the caverns of his memory that only masqueraded as memories, deceiving Wilforn in a way that no one ever had before. Such level of trickery should have been impossible. But now the truth was out. Lisa was alive, and it seemed that she was looking for him. Could she possibly remember him?

_Where is he!_ Her thoughts exploded into Wilforn's head like some freakish migraine. _Where is that man? Where is father?_

"Father?" Wilforn murmured.

_No worker ants! _The girl's thoughts went on. _Only father's worker ants are here. All the other vermin have died. No one to bother me, no one to stop me, no one left to feed me pointless injections of deception! Why did he lie? I did everything he wanted. Why did he lie? Who is that man? Watson said the name before his heart exploded. Who is Patrick Wilforn?_

"Who are you?" this time the voice didn't ring through his mind. It was in the room.

Wilforn spun around in his chair with a sudden start, his eyes gaping as a slender shadow rushed out from one corner of the room. He stared, transfixed as it slid through the air towards him, opening a frightful mouth that wasn't really there before it screamed at him. And then it was gone.

He didn't flinch, nor did he question the nature of what he had just witnessed. He knew all too well what this meant; it was the girl's rage, made flesh, or as close to flesh as telepathic energy could manage. It wasn't the first hallucination he'd experienced since the arrival of the girl. She had been here before, many years before, and traces of her physic signature would evidently be left behind. Now that she had returned, her unstable mind was creating random sights and apparitions, images and voices that only existed in the minds of those near her. Wilforn wondered if anyone else had experienced similar things? Those who still might be alive may have seen or heard something similar, and it would no doubt frighten those poor individuals right down to their very bones.

Wilforn reached back toward Lisa's mind, focusing as much of his telepathy as he could in order to see through her eyes. He believed that as strong as she was, Lisa was still inexperienced with her gifts; she wouldn't detect him yet.

A few seconds later he was granted his wish; she was walking, very hastily in fact, knocking down another door without effort, entering into what he knew instantly to be the cafeteria. Some of his staff turned from where they stood, littered about the area, swaying limply in their place like lost souls. They turned toward her when she entered. Wilforn continued to observe. He realised that these people had been taken over by a fate worse than death, hollowed out and consumed completely by the side effects and torment of the T-virus. A small ping of excitement took hold of his heart. He wanted to see this, wanted to witness her reaction to these threats. If indeed they were of any threat at all.

What happened next was to be expected; Lisa saw these pitiful things for what they were and within a breathtaking explosion of invisible strength, tore each and every one of them from the ground. Everything happened so fast that Wilforn barely had time to make out the image of the infected, ploughing into the walls, the ceiling, every one of them impacting with such force that any living breathing human would have died instantly. Most of the infected were suddenly nothing but mangled dripping smears, hanging from the violent indentations their bodies had made against whatever surface they'd been thrown into. Some twitched feebly, still holding on to some small spark of hunger that was their only remaining driving force, but none would ever stand, or even crawl, ever again.

"Impressive," Wilforn said, as he continued to view the environment through the eyes of this infant god.

"_Who is that?" _the girl hissed, ceasing her advance across the cafeteria.

Wilforn was momentarily thrown off by his own wonderment at what had just happened, but after a few seconds he couldn't help but smile at this new turn of events. "So you heard me that time,"

He watched through her eyes still, seeing her point of view swing about, coming to a sharp stop at every corner, every area where she thought someone might be hiding. Obviously her efforts were fruitless, but he didn't see any need to tease her. Until he knew exactly what the situation fully entailed he knew he needed to proceed with some caution.

"I'm in your head," he called to her. "I know you're looking for me. You detected me when you got here, and you've been trying to listen in for a while now."

There was a long stretch of silence. The girl's focus flicked back towards a door on the other side of the room; Wilforn felt her telepathy increase as she advanced toward it. _"You're reading my mind? Patrick Wilforn. So it's true: you're like me. How do I know you?"_

Wilforn breathed a hefty sigh without even realising he had done it. In all truth the question shouldn't have come as much of a shock to him; it should have really gone without saying that somehow Wesker had wiped Lisa's mind. The man couldn't obtain full control of someone if its devotion lingered on someone else.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't remember me," he said. "You've been away for a long time. And I see your talents have grown since we last saw each other."

"_How do I know you? Tell me!"_

Wilforn tried at that moment, to bore his way in, to see what she was really thinking, beneath the surface. But there was nothing he could do. Her innermost thoughts, her memories, were unreachable. It was apparent to him at that moment, since he hadn't tried before, that all he could do was speak to her, mind to mind, and also sit just on the surface of her senses to see through her eyes. But no more that, and now that she was aware of him he had doubts at being successful in forcing his way in. Her thoughts had screamed like a million banshees a few moments ago, but now that she knew he was there, she had closed him off.

"_Stop doing that!"_ Wilforn winced in response to an almost needle-like intrusion; it burned inside his head for a moment. Brief, but unpleasant. _"You _are_ like me."_

"Yes, like you," he replied. "And you should know me. Unfortunately that knowledge has been taken from you somehow."

"_We… w-we have never met," _she said, but her uncertainty couldn't be concealed._ "I can see your face now, and I have never met you before, you imbecile."_

"Oh I know that Wesker must have blanked your memory somehow; I don't know how he did it, but he did. It was the only way that he could make sure you'd stay loyal to him," Wilforn shook his head as he felt the girl's anger returning. "He's as sneaky as they come, isn't he? He's also a liar, and a thief. This isn't the first he's stolen something from me."

Another door was knocked down, and Lisa went through. She accelerated her steps. _"You. Know. Nothing! Nothing, old man!" _her voice almost boomed against the inside of Wilforn's skull, and for a moment the walls around him shuddered._ "My father isn't a liar. He must have had a good reason to not tell me," _she paused, possibly for a little too long._ "He's not the coward, hiding himself away."_

"Your father," Wilforn said, surprised at the sudden bitter tone that filled his voice. "Yes. Yes, I suppose he is,"

"_Oh, you suppose, do you?"_

"What do you know of me, Lisa? What drew you here?"

The girl didn't respond. She was conflicted about her intentions, of what choice she was supposed to make next, that was clear enough. Wilforn loathed this turn out. He couldn't deny the facts that were laid out in front of him, but on no day in this world or any other would he ever be happy with these terrible truths. After everything he had lost and suffered over the decades he would rather die than admit defeat in such a way. A father could never forgive himself for such a failure.

"You're origins, Lisa, are slightly more complicated than Wesker has told you, if he's told you anything at all. He hasn't, has he? He hasn't told you about your creation?"

"_Say what you want," she replied. "Whatever you tell me is a lie. It… it has to be a lie."_

"Is that so?" Wilforn said. "Then tell me why you're looking for me? Because once you discover the truth, you won't want to help him; can't you see that he's just using you for his own ends. He's a cruel man who would toss you aside if he thought you were useless to him."

Wilforn continued to observe as Lisa entered another room. It was small in size but hid something from the majority of people who had been in Wilforn's employ before their deaths. The wall on the opposite side of the room was what Lisa was now advancing on. There was a small switch that lay hidden, which upon flicking would shift the far wall, to reveal an elevator. Lisa wasn't going to bother with the tedium of searching for any concealed mechanism; ripping through the wall, Wilforn imagined, seemed like a much simpler option to the girl. Soon she would find him, and then he would show her everything.

"_You are not half a smart as you think you are," _she said. She came to a stop, standing only three feet from the wall._ "You're just trying to hold me off. You wont have any tricks left when I've found you."_

"Be careful Lisa," he said, strangely amused by her threats, even if they weren't necessarily idle. "You make the mistake of thinking that everyone and everything is inferior to you. Keep in mind that with all the insects you torment and stamp out every once in a while you will encounter a scorpion."

"_And I suppose you're the scorpion, are you?"_

Wilforn smiled. "To some, yes. Underestimating an adversary can leave a nasty sting. That's all I'm trying to say."

"_Well in that case, I'll have to hurry myself along a bit. I'll show _you_ a scorpion old man!" _The wall was ripped away within moments, and Lisa's access to Wilforn's hiding place was exposed.

Wilforn pulled away from her perception, leaving her to herself for the moment; he'd still have time to talk with her before Wesker found him. He sat back once again, his heart running heavily and hastily within his chest in awaiting her arrival. His last move was about to be made; one way or another his fate would depend on what he chose to do when she arrived, and also how much of the little girl he knew was actually left inside Lisa Sanderan.

"I look forward to speaking to you face to face. The truth is waiting for you," he then added, in a much lower volume, something he barely heard himself. "Please, remember."

* * *

Ada considered herself fortunate that she could still move her fingers; the wound that King's knife had inflicted had been lucky in not causing more permanent damage. The white of her bandage was only greeted by the barest dot of red. The bleeding was taken care of and now that hand had a sub-machinegun securely in its grasp.

The armoury had been hit hard, and only a handful of things were left behind. The security staff must have collected a great amount of firepower during Wesker's onslaught, or from the B.O.W's that had found their way down below. It seemed however that the tables might have turned in Wilforn's favour, since his release of the Straightjackets. Things were going to become even more complicated if Ada or Leon were forced into a conflict with those creatures. Wasting bullets, as far as she was concerned, was not on the agenda, but certain occurrences took place in the field sometimes. If it couldn't be helped, they at least should have some semblance of preparation for any possible trouble.

Leon had immediately reached for the Mp5, but had traded with Ada when she voiced her dislike for the only other large weapon in the armoury: a Remington 12 gauge monster that had been hanging on one of the gun racks. Ada was trained to use more or less any weapon that was offered to her, but didn't think the recoil of something with such a kick would do her injured hand any good, so they swapped. Leon didn't seem to mind.

They both left the armoury shortly after. Rounding another corner, Ada continued to take the lead; their footsteps came down fast and silent. There was an all-consuming pressure falling over Ada as she moved. The revelation of just how far Leon was willing to go for her had numbed a portion of her anxiety, but now it was back in full and vengeful swing, cutting into her fortitude once again with its indifferent claws. They now had perhaps less than an hour; Ada's mission had taken drastic turns since her entry onto the island, but now things seemed so ridiculous in their impossibility that she wondered if she still had the strength to find King before the facility was incinerated.

Wilforn's little failsafe with the Straightjackets had wedged a thorn in Wesker's attempts to kill both Leon and herself. Despite the predicament that these latest details had placed them both in Ada had to give the man credit; considering the opposing figures all around him Wilforn had held himself together surprisingly well. During his revelation of the self-destruct sequence Ada had gotten the sense that he was by no means a man who panicked easily. Cool under pressure was putting it delicately. Of course in her line of work she herself had grown accustomed to the severities of such an occupation, the very horrific nature of what one had to do to live through the days and nights, but even _her_ patience was wearing thin. Results had to come her way soon, which meant Daniel King had to be found.

They turned another corner, and stopped when they saw one of the shambling un-dead in the next passage. It slowly and shakily turned in their direction, its mouth drooping open as a horrible moan wailed out into the air. Ada watched as the creature raised its arms, moving toward them. Leon raised his sidearm, ending its sorrowful existence with a single shot. Ada began moving again even as the walking corpse ceased its advance, thumping to the floor in permanent defeat.

At the end of the passage stood a set of large double doors. Ada shot Leon a quick nod before breaking into a jog, unwilling to kill the remaining crumbs of her strength but also wanting to cover more ground at a quicker rate. Neither of them were going to be much good to the other if they were both still within Wilforn's madhouse when everything was blown to fiery ashes. Yet even now she was taken aback with the unreality of the agent's words; of the confidence he had exhumed in his desire to help her track down the sample from King. He wanted to help her – perhaps felt that he needed to even? She didn't want to include him, didn't want his life put at risk for the sake of her own longing heart. But she realised that his heart longed for her in a way that she would have found to be the most blissful of revelations in another life; she loved him all the same, since he had already gone to such lengths to keep her from the reaching clutches of the people he worked for, the very same people who would brand her as being well deserving of the title of enemy spy, of assassin, of murderer.

_Maybe they'd be right to think that? It isn't like I have any choice in the matter. Stacey would have done the same for me, although I wouldn't want her to, just like Leon._

As much as she wouldn't have wanted to admit this earlier, she needed Leon by her side right now, and for more reasons than one. She couldn't bring Phantom down by herself; whatever the man had introduced into his blood, whatever disease had blackened his heart even further, he had become something monstrous. He had always been a most enthusiastic killer, a wave of death at the most despicable level, but he was also something else now, and that something didn't seem willing to die easily. But perhaps with Leon's help, they both might just succeed in their separate and united goals? Ada wasn't kidding herself of course; things were going to become far more troublesome before the end, she was sure. As long as she got what she came for, she was certain that these trials would be worth all of it.

A scream entered the passage, a shrieking thing that could have burst Ada's skull as she clutched at her head. She would have seen Leon doing the same thing if not for the pain that this cry inflicted, rippling through the walls of her mind, as if coming from within rather that some unseen location. Staggering against the wall, Ada's hands remained pressed forcefully to her temples as words roared through her thoughts; what little recollection she could muster through the extreme migraine told her that she had heard the voice before.

"Where the hell is that coming from?" Leon groaned from beside her.

_Stop doing that!_ The voice raged away. _You. Know. Nothing! He's not the coward, hiding himself away.__  
_

It was the girl's voice; the one Ada had heard on the surface when she had made it to the house; the girl who had entered the estate after the helicopter crash. Ada remembered those tormented thoughts, projecting into her own weary mind, as if they wished to drown her in rivers of molten lunacy. And then the house had very nearly been wiped out, shaken at its roots from an unseen force, a force that this nameless girl had produced out of nowhere. And now it was happening again.

The lights flickered on and off for a moment as the ripping headache began to slowly retreat. Ada regained some sense of self, pushing away from the wall, just in time to view Leon's questioning but at the same time knowing glance. She didn't know how, but something told her that he was no stranger to that strange occurrence either.

* * *

The voice. The girl. The child's bedroom underground and the picture of Wilforn and the baby; Leon couldn't help but make the connections as to what these things might truly mean. The thing that screeched at him during his time in that room and the mindless rant he had just heard were one and the same. _How is that even possible?_ He wondered. However after some of the strange things he had witnessed on this night, could he really question what he had just heard only seconds ago? Could he deny the stabbing sensation that cut into his brain as that angered tone filled his mind?

The anger that pulsed from those words was child-like and quick to action. The words themselves seemed to have no direction, flinging themselves out in to the four corners of existence without intent or realisation. Whoever the voice belonged to, whether connected with Wilforn or not, Leon didn't think that this person – this dark force of unseen blood lusting rage – was chasing them. But at the same time, when he thought about who this girl might be, the image of the baby came to mind, the child that Wilforn held so dearly in that decaying image.

_Who are you?_

"Leon?" he was pulled out of his thoughts, looking toward Ada who was now regarding him with a questioning look. "What's wrong?"

"That voice," he replied. "I've heard it before."

Ada gravely nodded. "So have I. Someone entered the Wilforn estate just after I did, and that voice struck me like a hammer. It was as if someone was speaking to me, like a voice in my head I suppose. But then the whole house began to shake."

"Began to shake? I take it that wasn't exactly of the naturally occuring earthquake variety?"

"I doubt it," Ada shook her head. "It was as if that person's anger was causing it."

Leon didn't like the sound of that. "What? Like the telekinesis that the thing in the hotel was using?"

Ada nodded again. "Only stronger. We know Wilforn's been dabbling with mind development. And Wesker seems to have an interest in that area as well."

"Do you think Wesker brought something with him?" Leon couldn't know for sure, but the idea was completely possible.

"Maybe," Ada murmured, checking both ends of the passage, a deep caution engraved into her eyes. "But this probably isn't the best time discuss these details fully."

"You're right," Leon said. "If Phantom is going after Wilforn then we need to find him and we need to do it now."

"Then you might want to get a move on kids."

Leon and Ada both raised their weapons toward the door ahead of them. Standing there, in the now open entrance, was Phantom; he leaned against its frame, looking back at them with a teasing expression on his ghostly face. Leon felt his blood beginning to boil as the urge to pull the trigger itched its way through his fingers.

"Daniel!" Ada moved a couple of steps forward.

"Don't move, Phantom," Leon warned.

"I couldn't help over hearing your conversation, and… " he held out what looked to Leon to be a thin glass vial, and at that moment he thought he could literally feel the danger of Ada's emotions rising through the roof. "Well, I've had a change of heart," he went on. "Ada, you can certainly have this back; go ahead and trade it in for whatever is left of your sister– "

"I wont tell you again, Daniel!" Ada said.

"But," Phantom continued. "I didn't say that you didn't have to work for it. So run fast, ok?" he let out a brief chuckle before he swiftly retreated through the doorway.

"Damn him!" Ada charged forward as the door automatically closed behind Phantom. "Leon, come on."

A collection of things fell into play at this moment, and Leon saw each and every one of them with a startlingly brilliant clarity that was razor sharp. One of these thing was the time limit they were held captive to, and another being Ada's desperate need for closure. The only way she would ever find out what happened to her sister now lay in the hands of a sadistic entity that posed as a human being; the Ada he knew, the Ada that was aware of the simple details regarding a situation, had just vacated the premises and was now replaced by someone who had run out of time. Professionalism was no longer on the playing field, nor was it on the fence; Ada had just broken all the rules and kicked it screaming out of a closed window. There was a part of Leon that understood her actions completely, even if he knew that it was nothing more than a trap.

"Ada, don't!" he yelled.

The barest traces of a gasp blew out of him as he began running after her, watching as Ada slipped through the emerging gap as the doors slid open. They shut once again as Leon approached. His heart almost ceased its hasty beating when he heard a loud crashing noise behind the doors, large enough to shake the floor beneath his sprinting steps. He was only five feet from the door when he heard the following sound, which came in the form of Ada letting out a short and panicked scream. In that nightmarish group of seconds, Leon felt as if he'd already lost everything.

* * *

_Hope you all like this chapter. It's not long now before the end, less than a handful of chapters to go. Again, thank you to everyone who has been patient with me and my late updates. Sorry for the wait._


	21. Chapter 21

_This is a shorter_ _chapter than usual_. _It was going to be longer but I think I've kept my extremely supportive readers waiting for long enough. I'm really sorry for the delay, and I hope you like this chapter! _**  
**

* * *

**Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 21**

"Ada!"

Leon forced an unfathomed energy into his body, pushing his speed further and further. Even as he achieved this everything still seemed to have been driven into slow motion; the muscles in his face constricting like the tightening of a noose as fear ripped at his insides, suffocating every nerve without the barest hint of mercy.

Even the torturous two seconds that it took for him to get to the door, to steel his spent limbs into combat as that door began to open, all he saw within his mind's eye was the same image – the same horrific picture in full colour – that caused a panicked sweat to break loose across his face. He saw Ada, with Phantom's blade, buried in her chest, drawing the gushing life out of her with one fatal motion. He must have viewed the scene several times, playing on fast forward through his brain; every thriving detail clear in all its morbid and terrifying imagery.

Almost taking flight, Leon leapt through the gap before the door ever had the opportunity to part fully. And then he was falling, a short cry of surprise broke its way out of him as he plunged into darkness. It had been at the very last possible second that he had seen it, but in the time it had taken for Leon to notice the problem it had already been too late to prevent his mistake. The floor that should have been there, where Ada should have been, didn't exist. A small section of the flooring remained intact at the door, but all else had crumbled away, collapsing for reasons that he couldn't have formed a theory toward even if he had the time to make the attempt.

The lack of detail, of the unseen distance that he might plunge before making contact with solidity again, forced him to fear the worst. It gave the illusion of a bottomless nothing, a chasm without beginning or end. But only a second or more passed before Leon crashed against the invisible ground. A shooting pain pushed its way through his knees at the sudden landing, sending him sprawling through the darkness.

He lay there, still for only a moment, and then groaned as he pushed himself to his bruised knees. Looking about, Leon tried to make out some kind of image, some recognisable sign that might shed some figurative light on where he might have been. But there was nothing. It was far too dark to reveal even the slightest of things that his new surroundings might hold.

"Leon?"

"Ada?" a wave of relief shook its way through him, the clinging flakes of panic falling from his mind. "Ada. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he heard her breath a sigh. "That was sloppy of me. I shouldn't have done that. I think my belt light is smashed."

"Don't worry about it," Leon replied, getting to his feet. He clicked the flashlight on his handgun, shooting a narrow path of light through the swelling void.

"Leon… " her voice sounded closer. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll live," he flicked the light about, searching for her. "Where are you?"

He could hear her, the faintness of her breathing, passing through the pitch black like a vague SOS. Her soft footsteps followed. Not wanting to flash the light directly at her, he decided to hold it low, reaching out slowly with his other hand. After a couple of seconds he felt something press against his outstretched fingers. The unseen body grew tense at the sudden contact.

"It's me." he said.

The sensation of her hand, as it suddenly grasped his in a firm embrace, brought warmth that slowly chipped away at the tension he had felt. He felt her other hand, falling against his chest, and his heart began to rise in its beat, responding to her touch. If she noticed this reaction she never commented on it. He was just glad she was okay. However he couldn't linger in this mild bliss even if he tried, not with what had just taken place.

"Ada, where is he?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "He couldn't have gone far."

Leon's stance gained some rigid alertness as he tried to prepare for an attack, one he was almost certain would fall upon them both at any second. "He might still be here.'

"I know," Ada replied. "I can't find my handgun."

"You still got your sub?"

"At the ready. But shooting blind would be a waste of ammo and time, even if he is still around."

Leon inwardly cursed when he noticed the weakening of the flashlight, seeing it slowly lose its strength; it began to dim considerably in what he could now just about see to be a circular chamber of some sort. The minor scrap of illumination that was offered had picked up an open door at one point during his brief inspection, but now the light had lost its ability to trace even that. If they didn't move along soon then they'd both be forced to wander the formless pit until the entire facility was wiped away in fire and smoke.

"Ada, we need to move on now."

"We still have to find him,' she replied, her voice anxious yet again. "Where is he?"

Leon didn't want to dampen her spirits anymore than had already been done, but he couldn't ignore certain facts that stood in front of them. "We're not going to find him like this."

"Don't worry children," The voice boomed to life, filling the air with an almost fragrant dread. "I promise not to stray too far."

Leon felt his gut clench at the arrogance of the voice. "Phantom!"

"You'll have to forgive me for luring you down here. Actually I'm surprised you walked into that one. Some of the passages are falling to pieces; something to do with a certain little Miss who's been tearing this place wide open. I'm assuming neither of you have bumped into her since you're both still breathing."

"Little Miss?" Leon muttered to himself. He didn't need to see Ada to know that she had probably arrived at the same answer as he had. _The girl._

He felt Ada's grip on his hand intensify, quickly clenching around his digits in a vice-like fashion. "Show yourself, Daniel!"

Leon aimed his gun, sweeping the fading light over everything he could. The dying torch revealed not a sign of Phantom; he was completely out of its dying range.

"Oh come on, Ada," Phantom said. "I can't let you have the sample, not unless you're willing to make more of an effort."

"I've done nothing _but _make an effort, you lunatic. Stop playing these games."

"I don't think you have, Ada, sweetheart. You haven't sacrificed everything, yet," there was a momentary pause, and in it Leon thought he heard that morbid chuckle again. "Perhaps you only need to say goodbye to one thing, one sacrifice. If I told you to kill Mr Kennedy, if I told you to put a bullet in his face right now, would you do it? Would you go that far, to get what you came all this way for?"

"You're headspace is a million kinds of wrong, Phantom," Leon said.

"Wrong? If you tried, could you even begin to define that word?"

"You're just sick, Daniel," Ada barked.

"No," Phantom's voice grew colder, almost dropping the temperature of the sightless world, all his amusement vacating him. "What I am is realised humanity. I'm the terrible truth of our entire species."

"Spare us," Leon said, his skin growing hot with his rising temper. "You're just a psychopath, a waste of life."

A deep shuddering growl called out to them, a blood-lusting sound that sent a momentary shiver through Leon's spine. "I'm the only honest person you will ever meet, because I admit that I'm a monster. You only have to look out of your window, into the rotting stream of everyday life to understand."

Leon shook his head. "No. Not everyone is like you."

"Oh, aren't they? You see a convicted murderer on the news, imprisoned for the killing of some nine-to-five working nobody – probably for nothing but the change in his pocket. And then what happens? Hmmm? People, the so called righteous folk they claim to be, call for the killer's head on a stick; they'll have themselves a good old chat, coming up with all sorts of punishments, anything they can think of; torments that are usually even worse than the crime committed. And then the next day, they forget everything. One second they jump on the band wagon – just to have something to jabber on about for an hour or two – and then they're off again. The fatality, the criminal, all forgotten, as if the entire thing was just something to debate on, to pass the time in their dreary dead end lives. Their remorse just… dies. Most people are monsters, and the funny thing is that they don't even know it. I may be a beast, but its better than being a creature in denial playing at being a do-gooder, when all they really want to do is sink their teeth in and enjoy the sensations before moving on to the next juicy chunk of meat."

"Jesus," Leon said. "I thought you were going to carry on until the island goes bye-bye."

"Honest?" Ada said, her disgust quite audible. "You've never been anything but a liar, Daniel."

"I suppose so," he replied. "But, if I _am_ a liar, then I've never once lied about it. And come on, Ada, you know what I'm saying is the truth. How many times have you fantasised about wrapping your hands around my neck and choking every drop of life out of me? Come on, be honest."

There was a short batch of silence before Ada replied. "All I want is the sample."

"Then kill Mr Kennedy, and I'll hand it over," he said. "Ask yourself what's worse, Ada. Surely they wouldn't be equally painful? One has to sting less than the other. Which one could it be? Is it never finding your little sis, never knowing what become of her? Or is it the quick and painless death of this man? Well, I'm waiting for an answer," his voice was suddenly filled with a taunting that made Leon's blood boil. "What's the matter, Ada? You need a moment to think? Why don't you flip a coin or something? If your brain has stopped working maybe I can make the choice for you?"

"Daniel!"

Leon was almost a hundred percent sure that this scenario would end in one of two ways: either Ada was in fact going to shoot him for the sample (somehow he didn't truly believe that she ever would, but it still filled him with a swell of tension when he didn't really know for sure) and whatever affection she felt toward him would send a crushing guilt upon her shoulders. Or there was the other road, which would lead into a dead end; Ada locked indefinitely in her devastating indecision. Either way, Phantom was getting exactly what he was after. He was making her suffer.

And then Leon heard it, the striking clink of metal in the silence of the abyss, and his gut instincts told him exactly what it was before his brain ever caught up with the realisation. Ada had just lifted her sub-machinegun, and he thought he knew where she was pointing, as her body suddenly eased itself out of his reach.

"Ada?" he whispered. There was no response.

Leon's mind, his thoughts, the very core of his heart, was overthrown with a painful disbelief. It lasted only a fraction of time, a microsecond in the infinite that seemed to have clouded everything. But still, it was more than enough.

* * *

_I'm hoping the gap between updates wont be so long next time. Again sorry for taking so long in updating. And thank you again to everyone who has reviewed and followed me with this story, you've all been really patient with me and I'm grateful for that! Bye for now!_


	22. Chapter 22

_I promised it wouldn't be long and hopefully it hasn't been. I would have posted it sooner, but watching Skyfall for the first time got in the way, sorry :) And sorry for the last chapter ending on such a horrible cliffhanger. I do have a habit to using those quite alot. Well I hope you like this latest chapter anyway. Please let me know what you think! _

* * *

**Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 22**

She had heard the nervous rattle, just barely beneath the surface of his voice. She heard it as well as the urgent questioning in his tone, at his use of her name when she moved away from him. She felt his dreaded curiosity, pumping into her ears from that single word spoken. If it were not for the horror of the situation, she would have reached out to him.

Ada knew very well what he must have been thinking at that precise moment in time, and it stung her deeply, knowing what Leon was now convinced of. He thought she was going to end his life, to kill him in the dark. She hated knowing this, as if a piece of her had broke inside, with the knowledge that Leon believed what he believed.

She wanted to scream, to raise her head to the sky, to cry out and empty all of her rage into the heavens. She would ask why? Why had she been dealt this vicious hand in life? Why did Leon have to fall into the clutches of this grand design? Unfortunately she couldn't ask any such question. She knew why this had happened, knew why Leon was now involved. He was simply a tool for them, an unwilling means to an end for Wesker and King. He was being used in the act of ripping everything away, taking all things dear to her before sending her to her death. Daniel King wanted to take every last drop of good left in Ada's life; killing Leon, for Phantom, was nothing more than an added bonus. Ada's destruction was the true prize for him, or more accurately her misery was.

_Please, Leon! Hear this, hear my thoughts,_ she thought. She loathed the things that he must have been thinking, even if it only lasted a mere two seconds, it was two seconds too much. _Don't believe it. Don't believe any of it! I would never_… or would she? Had she thought about doing just that, for just a microsecond perhaps?

In all of her life there were only two people, two individuals in the whole world who had always been there for her when she needed them most. They were people who looked beyond every obstacle she had ever fortified around herself and saw what lay behind it all. One of them had been missing now for a decade, and despite Ada's burning desire to know the truth, she also had to be realistic: her sister was more than likely dead by now, taken under by whatever ungodly project Umbrella had forced upon her. It was simple closure, to finally know what had happened back then, one way or another. The possibility that Stacey was still alive had been the driving force behind most of her actions. But still, it was never a certainty.

But then there was the other person – that guardian angel, that lifeline out of the world of shadows – who hadn't abandoned her. He was still alive, still thriving, still breathing and tangible and real, right in front of her. She could reach out and touch him. He was the one who accepted her now, the one that made her feel that she wasn't truly lost to the void. Because he cared about her, enough that he could deceive his own government. It was that simple and unbelievable knowledge that gave Ada so much hope. Leon S. Kennedy was the only one who had _ever_ given her a choice.

She had to do something. It was now or never. Daniel King had finally – in his grand arrogance – slipped up. He must have become so enthralled by his work that he had convinced himself that things were about to come to their 'Inevitable' and climactic end. He thought he knew her, and to some degree he knew her like his own reflection. But there was one thing that he was unaware of. Maybe, just maybe, his mistake would be enough? The regret she felt at her choice was only momentary. Her mind was made up – the decision sealed and complete and irreversible. She couldn't wait any longer.

Spinning swiftly and without a sound, Ada raised the submachine gun. And then she opened fire, releasing a furious hail of bullets; the pounding of every exiting round of ammunition vibrated through her injured hand, sending sharp tremors through to her fingertips. But she didn't dare stop. She had located her mark, and she was going to make an end of him.

A muffled and yet agonising cry erupted into the blackness; it reached out with nightmarish disbelief at what had just happened; its deathly certainty was followed by the sound of Leon's shotgun, firing off two powerful rounds, crashing through the dark and striking something soft and bleeding and finished. And then Ada released her finger from the trigger of the empty weapon.

Silence enveloped everything once again, until Leon broke it. "Ada?"

"Leon," she said, almost able to taste the relief in his voice. She felt it just as well. "We got him."

Just then their eyes were assaulted by a sudden wave of illumination. The darkness was gone, replaced by light, a light that filled a circular chamber that they stood near the centre of. After a few seconds their eyes adjusted, and Ada began to fully take in their surroundings. There was a small passage, leading off toward on open doorway. However the only other thing worthy of note was the sight of the crumpled heap of a human body. It was still – stone cold dead, with gushing rivers of red leaving it to inhabit the floor. The body was only a few metres away from them, just near the wall; its face was obscured, pressed into the pools of its own blood. It was clothed in shades of dark.

Ada turned toward Leon. He looked as if he was about to speak, but she stopped him with an outstretched hand, placing it gently to the side of his face.

"Don't, Leon. I would never have shot you. You have to know that."

He let the shotgun hang by his side, his other hand coming up, enfolding her own. "I would have understood if you had."

"I know you would," she felt a smile form across her lips. "But I couldn't have lived with it. I could never live with your death, not now."

Leon returned her smile, and in his face there was a warmth that made this plague of madness all worthwhile. She had been given a choice, however terrible that choice was, and she had made her decision. No matter what happened, she knew that it was the right one to make.

She watched as Leon looked towards the body, releasing his hand from hers. "Do you think he'd dead?"

Ada looked off to the corpse, gratified by it's bloodied and bullet riddled shape, just laying there in all its lifelessness. But then if she was so sure then why did she feel the urge to walk over and check? She needed to only glance in Leon's direction, and she saw the nod in response to her unspoken question. With that they both approached the dead man.

There was an awful feeling, churning inside of her, beginning to rise; it told her that something was incredibly wrong with this scenario. She didn't want to entertain the thought, but she couldn't cease its entrance into her mind anymore than she could rip the clouds from the sky. It was strong, and it was inevitable, and as they reached the body her brain was struck fully by its dreaded certainty.

The body was torn to shreds from the multiple gunshot wounds; they had both certainly reigned down hell upon him, obliterating most of the torso completely. Another look at Leon and she could see enough to tell her that he held suspicions that mirrored her own exactly. But then how couldn't they resemble hers, she asked herself? The hands of the dead man were bound with thick grey tape behind his back. Leon stepped in, giving the body a strong nudge with his boot, rolling it over onto its back.

It wasn't King. It was someone else entirely, a man who had been hushed with the same grey tape, slapped over his mouth. The eyes bulged with a tormenting terror, filled with sightless agony. The whole time it had been nothing but another game by the ghostly lunatic.

"That son of bitch!" Leon stepped away from the body. "He can just use these poor bastards so easily. Anyone will fit the bill, as long as he can use them to screw with people's heads," he paused for a moment, letting out a small sigh. "I wonder if he was ever actually in the room with us?"

_Like he was using _you_ to screw with mine_, Ada thought.

"He _was _here," Ada felt her eyebrows pull tight. She turned around, hoping to find her sidearm. "He must have switched the lights back on when he left the room. I should have been able to hear him."

"So what does this mean?" Leon asked.

"It means that he's not finished," she replied as her eyes locked onto her handgun, moving to retrieve it. "He wants the game to go on a little bit longer."

"In less then an hour there wont be anymore games left to play."

"It doesn't matter," Ada holstered her handgun, sliding a fresh mag into the Mp5. "He won't get another chance to set us up. Let's get to Wilforn. Daniel is bound to show his face again before the end."

"Daniel?" she heard the curiosity practically steaming up from the word as Leon spoke it, and saw it equally in his eyes as they moved towards the door. "Just how well do you know this guy?"

"Well enough." That was all she cared to say.

"You don't want to talk about it?"

"Not now. When this is over," she replied. And then a deadly shadow fell across her next words. "I've had more than I can stand of him. When we see him again we cannot allow this to go on. If the sample really is lost to me than he can make this his final resting place as well. One way or another he's not leaving here alive."

* * *

Sidestepping a half smashed door wasn't a problem. Wesker had more than enough speed to avoid harmful debris. He sighed as the sharp sounds of machinegun fire burst their way into his ears; bright flashes of violence lit up the corridor as bullets raced out to eagerly meet their victims; the constant drumming of illumination gave a clear and detailed view of the straightjacket creatures, that were now making their way through a single passage in order to claim the lives of their creator's enemies.

Wesker straightened his sunglasses, then placing a finger to his earpiece. He had waited for long enough for his desired results. Things had taken a turn for the worse, and now it appeared that he was going to have to battle his way to freedom. But he swore than nothing within the clutches of this situation was going to prevent Wilforn's capture. Lingering in this place was a luxury that he didn't possess even the slightest shred of time to indulge in. If Agent Kennedy's people followed him to the island – and Wesker thought they would sooner or later – then he would find himself trapped. Their arrival was no doubt inevitable.

"What's the situation, Commander Stark?"

"Sir," an agitated voice came back. "We are– "

"I do hope you're not thinking of telling me that you haven't secured the exit yet."

Wesker kept a close eye on the advancing enemy. As soon as the fighting had begun it had become more than apparent that most of the tele-soldiers that Wilforn had freed had pursued them every step of the way. Some had broken off and had managed to wedge themselves into his escape point. _What a gifted man Wilforn is. _It was more than clear that Wilforn had used his own abilities to point them in that direction: monsters that obey telepathic commands. To say that this power was impressive was something of a colossal understatement. This power had unlimited potential, and Wesker wanted it. He wanted all of it.

"Sir," Stark said. "The moment we launch an attack they push us back. We can't clear them out fast enough– "

No more time could be wasted on this. So far the troops with Wesker had managed to kill five of their attackers. Unfortunately, as with everything else, ammunition was far from limitless. He had already retrieved what research was left within the labs, but he had indeed noticed that everything else had been cleaned out prior to his arrival. Wilforn had taken care of things nicely it seemed. But as soon as Wesker had the old man in his hands the trip would be more than worth all the trouble. Wilforn's brain, his great mind, was the key, the origin. It was the way forward for all mankind. Wesker had the keys to the kingdom within arms reach, and he would crush anyone that tried to impede the course of his ascension. His rightful place above all others.

"Stark," he said. "I have one more thing to take care of and when that is done I will return to the exit point. If you haven't cleared the area by the time I arrive I will make sure the death of your son is far quicker than your own."

"I… I can do it! All right! I'll get rid of them!"

"Good man." Wesker ceased communication, returning his attention to the matter at hand.

His men were fortified at a T-junction; a couple of large desks were placed down for cover as they fired short bursts from their concealment. A few metres away were the telekinetic hybrids. Wesker didn't know how many there were, as the pathway wasn't wide, only enough for two at a time to lead the way. On the other hand he couldn't bring himself to care. All he needed was for his team to hold them long enough for him to locate Wilforn and subdue him.

The creatures were being momentarily held at bay. Before his men had placed themselves behind cover they had managed to kill four of them with proximity grenades. It seemed that the creature's powers could only stand against so much at a time; as failed as they were Wesker knew that the possibilities for improvement were there. Lisa was proof of his expectations. While flawed herself, with her raging outbursts that had already claimed the lives of several under his employ, she still bared a strength that was beyond any level of skill that these monsters produced. In order to create a truly flawless physic soldier he had to have Wilforn; the merging of power and stability and loyalty, the key to building an army, to the future of the Earth.

Six soldiers were crouched behind the large turned over desk, just inside of the corridor; they fired off small swarms shots at the thankfully slow moving beasts. A few metres behind were another group, standing from their barricade and firing over the heads of the first. Two men were in the process of rigging the mouth of the passage to blow, which would hopefully halt the threat in its tracks, at least for a short while.

One of the straightjackets suddenly quickened in its steps, advancing within a few feet of the first desk. Its invisible strength lifted a flailing soldier into mid air; his comrades let loose a storm of bullets, however all were stopped as the monsters from further back fought to protect their own. And then the man was screaming, wailing his last as he was pulled into two gushing chunks of lifeless meat.

Wesker had decided that enough was enough. Lunging forward, he leapt through the air, clearing both barricades in a single jump. He grasped the forward monster by its head before his feet ever made contact with the ground; the bizarre cry of agony launched itself from the creature's mouth as Wesker's gloved finger crushed its face, and using the momentum as he landed he flung the writhing body through the air. There was a morbid snap of neck bone just before he released it, throwing it into the approaching horde, causing many of them to topple as their deceased member was hurled into them.

With clenched fists, Wesker took purposeful steps towards the monstrous group that were now in the process of lifting themselves from the floor. His men ceased their fire as he prepared to even the odds. _One way or another they're in for quite a show,_ he thought. He waited for the beasts to fully rise; they may have possessed mental powers, but that wouldn't be enough to harm him, not at their level. Nothing Wilforn could throw his way would be enough.

_"Open! Aaggghhh! Why wont you open?"_

"What?" He murmured, stopping as he heard the voice that boomed into his head. It was filled with anger and distress, clinging to his brain like a second casing of skull that didn't fit right.

"_It's just a stupid door! It should be nothing for me! A maggot door made by maggot humans! It can't stop me! It won't! IT WON'T!"_

"Lisa?"

He didn't know how this could have been possible, but it was indeed her voice that he heard. She was in Wilforn's facility somewhere. But why, or how, had that happened?

Wesker found himself grinding his teeth. How had she come to be here, he wondered? How did she know where to look? And more importantly, _why _had she come here? He didn't know, but he was fully intent on retrieving the answers to this unexpected change. His inward calm was barely maintained at this new batch of knowledge.

It appeared that Lisa's contact toward him had be purely accidental, however he could already sense which direction her thoughts were coming from. That was all he would need to locate her. A fearsome outrage was bursting its banks at the thought, the knowledge that she wasn't here to find him: she was looking for Patrick Wilforn. Whatever she was really up to, it threatened to destroy all of his plans in one single act of disobedience.

He retreated, jumping the desks once more; his men continued in their efforts to hold off the enemy without the slightest hesitation or questioning. Wesker issued orders to contact him if the situation altered in any way. And then he was moving off, running at full speed to reach his destination. Only forty minutes remained before the facility's self destruct wiped out everything within its underground walls. He couldn't fail. He wouldn't fail.

* * *

Lisa was reaching out again. She ripped her way through another door; the solid metal was separated from its frame, rendered useless as tons of telekinetic energy removed the latest obstacle.

Wilforn could feel her emotions as she went about this, could almost breath the swell of satisfaction that she herself felt; it had the same therapy on her as it would for someone to shred sheets of paper with their fingers. But it was also obvious to him that she was more than awake to the fact that the doors would simply recede into the ceiling upon approach. However the joy of destroying them couldn't be matched by anything other than the curdling anger and agitation that had slowly deepened and merged since her entry of the house on the surface.

Wilforn took some satisfaction himself, in knowing that she was now aware of her father's deception. She knew now that he had lied to her face. She hadn't come here with Wesker's permission, and it was entirely possible that he wasn't even aware of her presence yet. She wanted answers, and Wilforn would only be too happy to provide them.

He remained seated for the moment, resting with the comfort of a large chair as he monitored the facility, revealed in a set of screens before him. There was no sign of Wesker, not since he had left his men to fend off the onslaught of Wilforn's children. Another team was currently struggling to clear their escape route. He thought he had in fact seen Wesker for just a second; a dark blur shooting passed one of the cameras, almost invisible to a blinking eye.

_Where are you going?_

And then there was Agent Kennedy and his female accomplice Ada Wong. They were close by, and it appeared that they would both be coming up on Wilforn's location shortly. Although Wilforn was confident that Lisa would arrive before they did, as she was now as good deal closer than they were.

A burst of seething rage rushed its way out of Lisa's mind again; Wilforn almost gasped at the gushing waves of frustration. Their connection was growing stronger with every step she took. But now it appeared that she had been delayed by something. Something was blocking her path, and had angered her to new and dangerous levels.

_"Open! Aaggghhh! Why wont you open?"_

There was a scream, a shrieking and impossible thing that called out, one that Wilforn heard as much as felt. It bounced like a pinball against the inner walls of his skull. He stood from the chair, turning around to view the circular door; a four foot thick and ten feet high construction, securely locked with five giant electronic dead bolts. Lisa was standing just on the other side, attempting to break her way through.

Wilforn looked away from the door for just a second, glancing over at the two security, his remaining employees that hadn't yet died. Both men were standing at the foot of a long catwalk that lead off to a smaller door, one that would take Wilforn to freedom if he wished. The men jolted in their place when the sound of grinding metal entered the chamber. Wilforn shook his head, gesturing for them to head for the main door as he stepped away; after everything that had happened they seemed hesitant, but complied with the order nonetheless. Wilforn felt some amusement at their approach, wanting to see how many seconds they would last when the hindrance of the door was removed.

"_It's just a stupid door," _her thoughts cried out._ "It should be nothing for me, maggot door made by maggot humans. It can't stop me. It won't. IT WON'T!"_

Then it happened, the first sign of a tear appeared in the centre of the huge door; the security staff, clutching their guns within shaky hands, began to step back. The gap in the metal widened, and began to fold into the room; loud metallic screeching filled Wilforn's ears, as a hole was torn through, large enough for a person to walk within.

"S-sir?" one of his men twitched his head back to Wilforn.

Wilforn never had the chance to respond, and the man's head was then twisted so many times that it fell from the body with a bloody thump to the ground, unscrewed like a light bulb from his jerking body. A huge gasp escape from the between the lips of the second man as this happened, forcing him to stagger a few paces away; his gun violently shuddered in the reluctant grasp of his fingers. Pure terror overtook him, escaping from his thoughts, revealing to Wilforn a disbelieving fear that few had ever felt.

And then she appeared, stepping through the opening, and Wilforn's last man corrected himself just in time to raise his weapon fully. It was however already over. Before he had the time to pull the trigger his head vanished from his body, a horrific squelching and crunching sound coinciding with its disappearance. Wilforn realised a few seconds later that the head had not been ripped from the body, but instead had been forced downward with such power that it had been imbedded into the man's torso. A fountain of deep red flowed out of the entry wound before the corpse collapsed to the ground.

_There are some very painful ways to die,_ Wilforn thought, _but I cannot imagine how something like _that_ would feel._

He stood his ground, only ten feet away from Lisa as she locked her blue eyes onto his. She was obviously much older now, and he couldn't believe what a beautiful young woman she was becoming. She looked so much like her mother, barely resembling her father. Her wide eyes, her long black hair tied behind her head. She was the mirror image of the woman he once knew.

"Wilforn," she said, wiping blood from her noise; obvious stress from her efforts to break in. "I finally found you."

"Yes, you did," he replied, feeling some measure of paternal warmth at the sight of her. "I actually had my doubts that you'd be able to get through that door; you've grown very powerful since I last saw you."

Lisa sneered. "You didn't really think one door and a couple of termites with guns would stop me, did you?" the question came out in a small growl. "And why do you keep saying that: since you last saw me? I've… I've never met you before. But, I do forget insignificant things rather easily."

"I have no doubt," Wilforn's amusement at her self-sustained superiority wavered when he felt her intent to kill him. "But that wasn't the reason that you forgot our time together. You would have remembered just fine if your mind hadn't been wiped before Wesker woke you from sleep."

Lisa's eyes narrowed further. "Time together? You're imagining things."

Wilforn sent her an image, a memory. It was something he'd held close for years now; the image of a five-year-old girl, sitting on her rocking horse, striking and real to him now as it had been back then. He viewed Lisa's reaction, watching her shake her head as her frown increased in its intensity.

"I understand," he said. "I know what you've been going through since you came here," he began to walk forward. "You feel as if you've been here before."

"Stay where you are!" she snarled, snapping out of the reminiscent fog that he had momentarily trapped her in. "My dad, he would have told me about this if it were really true."

"Wesker is not the father you think he is," Wilforn halted his approach, deciding to keep his distance for the time being. "Yes, he _is _your biological father. However he's not fit to be a parent to any child. Add to this the fact that he never tells the whole truth – if any of it."

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Lisa was clenching and unclenching her fists, her arms beginning to shake. "You're the one who's lying. I'm going to… to take you to him."

Wilforn was running out of time. He had to press harder. "Look at you! Would you really be here now if you believed the things you're saying? You know it's true. You have to remember. You're stronger than whatever he did to you, I know you are."

"You don't know anything about me, fool!"

"Actually I do."

He then revealed to her the girl on the horse again, the one smiling her tiny and oblivious smile. Her black hair flowing long down her back as she rocked and rocked, content and fulfilled by such a simple act. Nothing else in the world existed for her. Only that, and the man she called daddy.

This time it wasn't a still picture that he showed her, and he watched as Lisa froze. Her maddening eyes gained some level of calm as she stared at the ground, seeing, remembering. He knew this image, this memory, was tormenting to her, because she still couldn't fully gain purchase on what her life had been before. But she knew that she was the girl. Wilforn knew she did.

"_No!" _her thoughts screamed their way through him. _"It's not me. He's not telling me the truth. Wesker– dad wouldn't… it cant be me! I can't… no! He's lying. He's lying, he's LYING!"_

Wilforn continued to fill her brain with thoughts and flashes, baring the unconditional seal of the past. He did so even when the chamber began to tremble and shake around them, her power losing stability. He showed her the younger version of himself, entering into view; the smile she wore at his approach was worth a thousand lifetimes to him, even more so when the girl raised her small arms, beckoning him to lift her up. His more youthful self brought her into his arms, placing a kiss on her head.

_Lisa_, his pest self said. _We're going out on a trip today. _Even now he felt that all consuming sadness, the helplessness that stung just as horribly as did back then, back when the thing he cared for most was snatched away.

"Stop it!" Lisa trembled, breathing hard, her face creasing with a dozen lines of pain. "I said stop!"

Just like that, the images and sounds were gone, and they were both thrown back into the real world of the present. Wilforn had made a dent, he was certain that he had; Lisa couldn't deny the truth of what she had seen. She must have known as well as he did that it was real for her, that what she had been shown had once happened, and that she had loved him like a father, just as he loved her like the daughter she always should have been.

"Listen to me, because there isn't much time," Wilforn said. "Albert Wesker, and a woman named Beverly Sanderan were paired together, and were the ones who you owe your birth to. They were the two responsible for the project that brought you into this world. However, your power – or at least a part of your power – came from me. My DNA was introduced to you while you were still in a foetal stage of growth. You and I are connected because of that. You've felt this ever since coming here, ever since you learned who I was, and you know that I am not lying about that. Search my mind if that's what will convince you."

"Shut your mouth!" she yelled, tears forming in her eyes as she stood on shaking legs. The room was now quaking at a greater strength then before. "Don't speak to me! You're… you're a liar! I… y-you cant be… Wesker, dad, wouldn't lie. My ability has nothing to do with you! It doesn't!"

Wilforn stepped a little closer. "I was placed in charge of taking care of you after you were born," he didn't realise just how overwhelming his fatherly feelings for this girl had grown since seeing her last. His control, however, never slipped. "What you just saw was the day I had to give you up. The people that Wesker and myself worked for wanted you as a weapon. I have been working to create physic soldiers, but from my own DNA only. I would never have used you as a testing ground, and they knew that. You and I have a connection that's just as strong as father and daughter– "

"Then why?" she interrupted, tears now flooding her cheeks. "Why did you let them?" Wilforn felt an invisible grip encircle his neck as her eyes pierced into him. "Why did you let those men take me away?!"

Wilforn remained calm as he pictured the event, the end of their time together, He knew that she was now seeing and experiencing the same thing, playing through her mind as it did his: the men from Umbrella, dragging her kicking and screaming down a corridor and out of his life. What made it all so much worse is that she might have been strong enough even then to stop them, if it were not for Wilforn mentally subduing her under Spencer's orders. She had called to him for help, but he couldn't lift a finger. The memory was the greatest torture he would ever know.

He knew now that she felt everything. He remembered the terror she felt back then. _She _remembered the terror. They both recalled those things as if only occurring the day before, flooding their thoughts once again. He saw her horrific recollection, and the tests, the things he hadn't witnessed: spending weeks locked away inside a dark room with nothing but a small bed in the corner; being thrown into a glass tube, being put to sleep, and then waking up; the face of Wesker being the first thing to greet her eyes as everything from before that time was washed away by his interference. He saw it all, and more than ever he hated Spencer and Wesker, wishing them both dead.

And then Wilforn felt the grip release itself from him, and saw Lisa wiping at her eyes as she spoke again. Her voice had lost all its previous flames of aggression. The room stopped shaking as she looked back at him.

"I remember you."

"Patrick Wilforn!"

Wilforn's eyes shot over Lisa's shoulder; the sight of Leon Kennedy and Ada Wong stepping through the hole in the door, their guns raised, snapped him back to reality.

"Get your hands in the air," Kennedy ordered. "And step away from the girl, do it now."

Wilforn made no such move, but instead watched as Lisa turned around to view the duo. He wasn't sure at first on how she would react to the interruption, but apparently the sight of the gun wielding couple had spiked her aggravation again. Wilforn couldn't resist a small smirk at this turn out. Neither of them had the slightest idea of the gravity of their mistake in entering the room.

"You shouldn't be here," Lisa said. "I would leave now if I were you."

"Step away from him kid," Kennedy said, keeping his gun trained on Wilforn. "That man is dangerous."

"Leon," Ada said, and Wilforn could see her regarding Lisa with deep suspicion. "Something's wrong."

Wilforn couldn't see Lisa's face, her back currently facing him, but he felt the renewed anger welling up like volcanic eruption.

"That was your one and only chance," Lisa said. "You should have scurried away when you had the opportunity. Too bad for you!"

"Leon, its _her_!"

* * *

_I know, another cliffhanger. I'm like a broken record or something. Hope you liked this, and I will have another chapter posted ASAP. Bye for now!_


	23. Chapter 23

_Hi everyone! I finally got my head on straight and decided to write something again. Hopefully I wont have anymore long breaks in the future. Sorry for the wait on this chapter. I hope you like it._

* * *

**Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 23**

The light had died off a few minutes into their journey; the dangling lifeless bulbs offered nothing as they walked beneath them. The passage they were now taking was populated with clumps of shadow, grouped strongly here and there. Whatever little light they had was only offered to them from the opening in the distance. However the tunnel was long, and gave the illusion of stretching on forever. Time was running out.

Leon felt the cold air wafting through the space, falling chillingly onto his bruised arms. But this detail was not what played through his mind at that moment, as he and Ada pushed on. What was now doing laps around his brain was the fact that a low rumbling sound could now be heard, and felt. It seemed to be vibrating ever so slightly as they pressed forward. He couldn't have said for certain what was causing this, but there was a nagging certainty, building slowly but surely, that they wouldn't have to wait much longer before they discovered its source.

For just a moment Leon thought he'd heard someone, speaking, shouting, up ahead. But the sounds subsided quickly. From the alert glare he saw Ada throw in that direction, Leon guessed that she had heard it as well. The light was growing stronger the nearer they drew in, toward the opening, and whatever lay beyond it. A cold chill ran through him for just a second.

He was now convinced that something was happening up ahead. It was something bad. Ada clearly felt the same way. But neither of them could stop, not after coming so far. Both he and Ada were trapped within the cold grasp of something bigger than the both of them, and if they wanted to survive this nightmare then Patrick Wilforn had to be found. Only Wilforn would know a way to escape the underground. Leon was in the process of readying himself for the inevitable interrogation.

Raising the Remington a little higher, Leon found some small comfort in its weight. The real comfort, however, was that Ada was by his side in this. Surely there was nothing they couldn't see through to the end as long as they were fighting side by side. He thought so. He hoped so.

"_No_!" a voice suddenly roared through his head, forcing him to stop. "_It's not me. He's not telling me the truth. Wesker– dad wouldn't… it cant be me! I can't… no! He's lying. He's lying, he's LYING_!"

The ground began to tremble within the passage, first a mild thing that gradually rose higher, gaining in strength. Tremors then rippled their way through Leon's feet, drumming into his knees.

"Jesus," he said.

Ada placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked toward her, and in her eyes he saw a concern that mingled with her own disorientation. She had heard the voice just as well as he had, and looked as visibly shaken by it as he felt.

"You ok?" she asked.

Leon nodded. "Damn. Whoever they are, they can sure think pretty hard."

"Whoever it was who passed me in Wilforn's house," Ada said. "They're up ahead now. Maybe they've met up with Wilforn."

"Great. This is going to be a problem."

"It's all we've got," Ada released her hand from his shoulder, gripping her submachine gun in both hands as she looked on. "We can't turn back now."

Leon couldn't argue with that. Ada was right. And in any case, he had made a promise to himself, to bring Wilforn down. If the man was indeed ahead of them, and Leon believed he was, then they couldn't stop until he was in their hands. One way or another they were both drawing that much closer to a fight, one that couldn't be avoided.

They began to move again. The opening was now only a few metres in front of them; it called out to them with its blinding light, like the glow of the afterlife, it beckoned them. At the same time it warned them. Danger was close by, waiting for them.

"So," Ada said. "Do you plan on dragging Wilforn out of here when we're finished?"

"If I can," he replied. "He's just another one of Umbrella's crazed monster makers. They left way too many Dr Frankenstein's just laying around. If I can bring down so much as one of them, well, let's just say I'll sleep easier."

"That means a lot to you doesn't it, seeing people like him put away?" she said. "It would certainly make another Raccoon City less likely. It left its mark, didn't it?"

"Honestly, Ada, I think it was a turning point for everyone."

"There's never been a truer word, handsome," Ada said.

They came upon the opening, a forced entry within the middle of a huge round door. It looked to be strong, thick and unyielding, and yet something had broken its way through, ripping the door open like he would a can of beans. Heated words rang louder in volume as their sight adjusted to what lay beyond. Leon raised his weapon fully, taking point as Ada watched his back, following closely behind.

"Why did you let those men take me away?" someone cried out.

Leon saw two figures. He could now clearly make out the both of them, as he stepped through the monstrous tear within the door. He felt his skin growing cold again, a thousand small pinpricks jabbing into his body all at once.

A girl was standing not far away; her back was pointing to the door, to them, apparently not noticing that she and Wilforn had company. Wilforn was a couple of feet in front of her, and it seemed that he hadn't noticed the intrusion either. _What are they doing?_

"I remember you," the brunette girl said. The ground had stopped shaking at those words.

Leon aimed his shotgun. "Patrick Wilforn."

Ada came to his side, raising her weapon also. Wilforn was now looking over the girl's shoulder, staring at the both of them. The girl's body was obstructing most of the old scientist from Leon's view. Whoever she was – and Leon didn't have the time to consider the possibilities – she was in the way. He didn't bother to wonder how the two headless security members laying on the ground had come to be headless. This place was indeed a house of pain, as Phantom had put it. Making sense of all the pointless death was exactly that, pointless.

"Get your hands in the air," Leon said. "And step away from the girl. Do it now."

Wilforn didn't make any such move. But the girl was then turning; her large blue eyes glaring out a tangible current of distaste towards Leon. She didn't seem at all happy with their presence, as if they had interrupted something extremely important. It was when she faced them fully that Leon finally noticed a faint smirk brush its way onto Wilforn's lined features.

"I wont tell you again, Wilforn," Leon went on, wondering what they had just walked into. "Step away from the girl."

"You shouldn't be here," the girl suddenly spoke. "I would leave now if I were you."

Leon saw the disturbed intensions in the girl's eyes, the bloodshot eyes that had rained tears over her cheeks. He didn't know what had happened before he and Ada had arrived, but whatever it was had concluded with their entrance. And now Wilforn appeared to be drenched in a calm that Leon would have found irritating, had it not been for the predicament that had arisen.

Leon had no intention of retreating through the door. Clearly the girl didn't grasp the situation the way she should have. "Step away from him, kid. That man is dangerous."

"Leon," Ada said, and he could hear an emerging tension within her voice. "Something's wrong."

In truth he felt somewhat foolish for not seeing this sooner, for not feeling all the warnings soaking deep into his bones. The rush that overtook at the sight of Wilforn must have clouded all else. The shaking of the ground around them whilst in the tunnel had been momentarily forgotten. Even the pulsing rage of that voice, the girl's voice, had fallen to the background of its priorities.

The girl that was standing in front of Wilforn, the one who Leon hadn't pinned the strange occurrences on at first sight, frowned so hard her brow should have split from the strain.

"That was your one and only chance," she said, or growled. There was a deep edge jutting from every word. "You should have scurried away when you had the opportunity. Too bad for you!"

"Leon, its _her_!" Ada cried out.

Before he could take any action, before his priorities shifted and he moved to swing the shotgun just that short distance toward the girl, he was flung into the air. The world lost all shape and form as it rushed away, in the second that passed, that short space between leaving the ground and coming into hard contact with the monitors over to his right. Several screens split and cracked to pieces with the force of his body crashing into them.

He tumbled to the floor a second later, with new pain shooting through his back and arms. He looked up, watching as Ada was pulled off of her feet. She was being dragged through the air, toward the girl, a girl who wore the facial mask of nothing approaching amusement. She wasn't pleased, but held a horrifying and merciless glow with her bright eyes.

Leon had seen what the Straightjacket creature had been capable of doing; it was obvious that this girl possessed the same abilities. However, if what Ada had told him was true, and this girl had really been the cause of what had nearly collapsed a house that was near mansion in its size, then she was of a far greater danger. Whatever he was going to do, he knew he had to be quick about it.

Ada was hovering, suspended two feet from the ground, as the girl stepped forward. The need to hurt, to destroy, was pulsing all over, beaming from her glaring face. He saw Ada struggle to free herself, although there was nothing tangible, nothing physical, that she could take hold of or fight against.

Time seemed to shift, slowing down and speeding up at the same time. Fear of what would happen to Ada blotted out all other things as Leon watched the girl using her power to force Ada to lift her hand, the hand that still held her Mp5, forcing the barrel against her head.

"Go on," the girl said. "Try and fight back. I'm going to make you pull that trigger. So go ahead. Try and stop your finger from moving. Just try."

He heard the words, felt the malice from her twisted mouth as he pushed himself to his feet. He wasn't going to let this happen. He wouldn't let Ada die, not if he could do anything about it.

Running forward, Leon fired off a round from the Remington, aiming for the girl's upper body. But what should have happened after that didn't; the solid slug bounced off of an invisible wall, never touching her. He fired a second time, and again she blocked it with that barrier that couldn't be seen, or even believed.

This should have been impossible. She held Ada and stopped the shots at the same time. The Straightjacket couldn't have done such a thing, and was only able to grab things individually out of the air. This girl was able to create a wall of telekinetic energy. Whatever it was that granted her this power, it soon became clear that finding a way to stop her was going to take for more than simply shooting and hoping.

"You cannot stop her, Mr Kennedy," Wilforn said, his voice filled with admiration. "She's not some zombie, shambling about without a brain."

"Leon," Ada called to him. "Don't stop. You have to kill her."

"He can't," Wilforn said.

"I can try," Leon aimed for the girl's head.

"And you'll find yourself disappointed with the results," Wilforn replied. "How can you stand against her, when you cannot even kill a madman with an unstable failure swimming through his veins? Strange, how his condition just so happens to relate to Miss Wong's mission."

"What?" Ada said, whilst still battling to force the gun from her head.

"Don't kill her yet, Lisa," Wilforn said.

"Do not tell _me _what to do!"

For whatever reason, the girl had decided not to end Ada's life, yet. Leon didn't know why she would listen to the old man, but he hoped that it would buy him sufficient time to think of something.

"What do you mean, Wilforn?" Ada demanded.

"Rapture2309," Wilforn said. "That is what I mean, Miss Wong. I can't imagine why your organisation would want something that could only spell the end for everyone. If there were ever to be an outbreak of such a poisonous monstrosity, then every soul on this planet would cease to possess any shred of thought. The world would be drenched in chaos until the very end."

"What does that have to do with Wesker?" Leon asked.

"Wesker?" Wilforn seemed almost confused for a second or two. "I'm not talking about Wesker. I'm talking about your friend, Phantom. The thing he has inside of him. I can certainly understand why he wouldn't want to hand the sample over, now that he has it. Hating Miss Wong is only one of the reasons."

"Daniel," Ada said. "He's infected with Rapture?"

Wilforn nodded. "That's correct. He had no access to a raw sample of the virus, because Wesker never had one in his possession. Daniel King's DNA is the only thing Wesker possesses to synthesize a serum, to keep the virus from killing him. Now that King has the sample, I don't think he's going to need Wesker's help anymore, as he'll be free to roam as he pleases from now on. The rabid dog has finally lost his leash."

Leon's fingers constricted, tightening around the shotgun. He also noted the two grenades that were still attached to the belt of one of the headless men. "You told Phantom where it was, didn't you?"

"Of course," Wilforn went on. "The man was ready to end my life. My telepathy gave me the power to see his thoughts. But I encountered a problem: I found that I could affect very little inside his mind. The Rapture somehow gave him the defence he needed to resist mental attacks; something about the alteration to his brain chemistry. I couldn't have foreseen that outcome. However I saw a window of opportunity and decided to give him something, in order to gain his support. I had hoped that he would have killed you both by now, but it seems that his thirst to vengeance has made him want to postpone your deaths, making them as painful as possible. Well, at least painful for Miss Wong, as he despises her a great deal. So now, I have to ask: why would this organisation of yours want this sample at all? What possible reasons could they have?"

Leon couldn't let this continue. Somehow he had to find some way of stopping the girl. "Wilforn, call her off."

"I'm afraid she might not listen, Mr Kennedy," Wilforn replied, before looking back to Ada. "Tell me. Do I have pull it from your mind, or are you going to tell me what I want to know?"

"You're wasting your time," she said. "They never told me anything. I have no idea why they want the virus sample."

Wilforn's eyes narrowed a fraction, and then after a few more seconds of tense and heated silence he spoke. "No. You don't have any idea, do you?" he sighed. "In that case, I think its best that we conclude this now."

Leon whipped the shotgun to Wilforn. "Yeah, lets."

* * *

Ada watched as Leon took the shot, a single round that would end the old man for good. What she saw happen at the same time was the frantic and fearful look that flared from within the girl's young features as she turned her head. The girl realised what was happening, and took action.

"DON'T!" she screamed.

The barrel of the gun was released, relieving Ada of the discomfort that it caused from being pressed hard against her skull. She dropped to her feet, as all the girl's concentration suddenly shifted, blocking the shot that should have killed Wilforn.

It was entirely possible that the girl could have stopped Leon's round and held Ada at the same time. Her connection to Wilforn however, whatever they may have been, had dismantled any good sense she had, forcing her to make her first mistake, one which Ada acted on. She drove her fist into the girl's face; she didn't appear to weigh much, and dropped to the ground in a twisted heap. Relief rushed through Ada's system at the sight, considering it a good thing that the girl wasn't physically formidable, as their chances of stopping her would have been zero if that were the case.

"Sorry, sweetie," Ada lined her gun up with the girl's bloodied face, as she stared up at Ada with wide eyes. "But I'm not about to give you another chance to kill me."

The girl wiped at the blood that pored from her nose, looking almost thoughtfully at the red that stained her fingers. "You… you made me bleed. You hurt me. You, hurt, me."

"If it helps, this bullet wont hurt a bit," Ada pulled the trigger.

Wilforn sighed. "Pointless."

Ada froze, looking down at her gun, realising that her trigger finger hadn't moved at all. She couldn't move it. And then she was hurled backwards, her slender body crashing to the floor near the broken door. Fortunately she had managed to land in a rough improvised roll and came to a halt on her chest, facing the passage beyond the door.

"It looks like I'm just in time," someone said.

Ada shook her head, looking upward. And then her body stiffened. The sight of Wesker standing over her was far from a welcome sight. His eyes still hidden beneath his shades, though those tinted lenses did nothing to hide the smugness of his smile. Her anger gave her the boost she needed, springing to her feet and taking aim.

What surprised her was that he barely spared her a look; his face was fixed in Wilforn's direction. She watched as he stepped forward, darting aside as he went by, but keeping her gun raised and ready. She saw Leon keep his place near the destroyed monitors, his weapon also ready and waiting. Things had just gone from bad to outright terrible.

"Patrick Wilforn," Wesker said, almost strolling as the girl lifted herself up, holding her bloody nose. "I see you and Lisa have been chatting away without me. Now that I'm here, I think its time we brought this show to a close."

"Oh I don't think that's going to happen, not until Lisa decides whom she trusts more," Wilforn said, standing his ground without the slightest flinch. "I think you've kept her in the dark for long enough."

Ada continued to view this developing scene in silence, as did Leon. She hadn't the slightest idea of what the situation was between the three, but it seemed to run deeper than she could ever guess.

"She's none of your concern, Wilforn," Wesker said, coming to a stop right in front of the older man. "Spencer knows that, and so do I. The truth is, old man, that you're just not relevant anymore. Well, your opinions aren't relevant, I should say."

"He told me you lied," the girl, Lisa Wesker had called her, spoke. "He showed me. He said I came from him as well. Have you really lied, father? Did you wipe my mind?"

"Father?" Ada whispered. She and Leon shared the same look, glancing back at each other for a moment. "What in the world?"

Ada didn't know how this situation was going to turn out, but she could see a definite boiling point on the way. Neither she nor Leon had an ice cube's chance in hell of surviving a confrontation with Wesker and this Lisa girl. But she had called him father. It seemed that more than one secret had been revealed today, and despite Ada's doubts of surviving this place, she couldn't keep her curiosity from gaining some momentum over her better judgment.

"I can assure you, Lisa, I've not kept you in the dark regarding anything. Everything I have done has been for your benefit," Wesker said.

The girl frowned. "I can see it now. How can you just stand there and lie to me? I trusted you. You were supposed to be the only one that understood!"

The walls and floor began to tremble again, as the girl's emotions began to spiral out of control once more. Ada realised that she wasn't going to learn anymore. She hadn't seen Leon reloading, but looked over just in time to see him take aim again, firing off a shot. The round was no doubt intended for Wesker, but in a breath of a second the man darted sideways; the shot passed by him, clipping Wilforn's arm, forcing the man to clutch at the sudden wound as his face twisted in pain.

Wesker turned to Leon, shaking his finger before he launched himself at Wilforn. He wrapped his hand around the scientist throat, lifting him off of the ground and throwing him towards the stairs of the catwalk with a dull metallic thud of bone against metal.

"What are you doing?" the girl asked, her face layered with uncertainty and fright.

"Shut up and watch him," Wesker coldly ordered. "Make sure he doesn't go anywhere," and then he turned back to Ada and Leon.

They both kept weapons locked on Wesker's head, as the girl began to reluctantly ascend the stairs towards the rising Wilforn. Ada couldn't think about Wilforn at this time; it wasn't him that they now had to worry about, but the man who was now removing his shades, tossing them aside. The deep orange almost glowed red with distain; two cat like slits of pupils gave off the shape of daggers as he looked left and right, glaring at the both of them.

"The two of you have cost me much," he said, clenching both fists. "Phantom had his chance. It ends now."

Ada didn't say anything. Instead she opened fire, with Leon quickly doing the same. The first time Daniel King had distracted Ada, but now she and Leon had Wesker all to themselves. Eventually they would have to hit their mark.

Wesker's body flashed from side to side, his movements swifter than the bullets that chased him. He blew passed each attack, coming to stop in front of her, where he landed a kick into her chest, sucking every drop of wind from her body as she was sent flying. She hit the wall just near the door. The world became a cloud of pain as she hit the ground.

* * *

"Ada!"

Leon saw her unmoving form on the ground, the sudden panic clenching around his chest. _She isn't dead!_ He fired off the last round from the Remington, only to have Wesker dodge before advancing on him.

Taking the barrel of the shotgun in his hands, Leon swung the weapon through the air with every ounce of strength he possessed. Wesker was too fast, and simply raised his arm in defence, letting the shotgun bend against it. Wesker knocked the remains of the gun out of Leon's hand. He drew his knife, in a desperate attempt to end this, so that he could reach Ada, who hadn't yet lifted her head. She couldn't be dead, he thought. She had survived worse than this before. _It's going to take more than one kick from Evil Neo to keep her down._

He directed the blade toward Wesker's throat, and even though he had seen the man heal rapidly from bullet wounds, this knowledge didn't prevent him from trying. But Wesker smiled as he avoided the first few strikes, before slapping the third attack away from his neck with his left hand. He sent his right fist ploughing into Leon's gut, following with a left hook to the side of his face. Leon fell to his hands and knees as the room spun before his eyes. The blows had put him into standby mode for just a moment; the punch to the face felt like it should have knocked him unconscious. Only it didn't. He'd be feeling the effects for some time however, he had no doubt of that.

He quickly rolled away from Wesker, coming back onto his feet as the man closed in again. Then a sudden barrage of gunshots made everyone stop. Leon saw Ada, now standing, just near where she had fallen. Her Mp5 was trained on Wesker, and she had just unloaded shot after shot into his back. She looked hurt, but nevertheless standing.

"So now that you've finally managed to shoot me," Wesker said, with some minor pain written across his face. "Do you feel better, Ada?" he then advanced towards her. "I expected more of you. You should have known better than to think you could kill me with that."

As he made his approach she was already reloaded her gun. This gave Leon his chance. He ran into Wesker back, rapping one arm tightly around the man's neck, and then driving his knife between Wesker's shoulder blades with the other hand. He had buried the blade right up to the handle, twisted it as hard as he could. He couldn't believe how much he had wanted to hurt Wesker until this very moment. His emotions clouded all else, as his need to make an end of the man took over.

"Insignificant pest!" Wesker growled, in obvious pain.

Leon was then thrown off of his enemy like weightless air. He landed in a crouch as Ada fired again, rising to see Wesker close in on her before any of her bullets reaching their intended target. And then she was out of ammo, throwing the spent gun aside. Leon drew his sidearm, but was confused when Ada didn't do the same.

"What do you think you can do, Ada?" Wesker said, moving towards her. "You have nothing, nothing at all to show for all of your efforts," she threw a punch but he easily grabbed her fist. "You've exhausted all of your energy, and for what? To save a sister who's fate was sealed years ago? You really are a pathetic creature."

"Shut up!" she almost snarled.

Ada tore her hand out from his grasp, grabbing a hold of the back of Wesker's head. Leon watched, as time seemed to slow, almost grinding to a halt. He watched as Ada balled her other hand into a fist, sending punch after punch into Wesker's smug face. The blows barely moved him; his head jolted backwards only faintly. He laughed at her attempts to cause him pain.

"Is that all?" he said, breaking free from her with ease. "After everything I've done, this is the best you can muster?"

Ada threw a kick toward his head, her leg swinging through the air with blinding speed; Wesker ducked the strike as if it were travelling in slow motion, taking her other leg from under her and sending her to the ground. He was then on top of her, his hand clamped around her neck. Leon didn't even think of shooting; with even the slightest risk that he might hit her, he just couldn't afford to take that chance. Instead her ran, charging towards them as Ada grasped Wesker's powerful arm, pointlessly attempting to rip his hand from her throat. Even as Leon ran, he saw her face, saw it changing in its colour, and saw the light fading from her eyes.

As Wesker brought himself to stand, lifting Ada with him, Leon leapt into the air. He raised his feet as he jumped, sending them both crashing into the man's back. The impact forced Wesker to let go of Ada, sending him staggering across the metal flooring, almost loosing his balance all together.

Leon ran to Ada's side, as she fell to her hands and knees, gasping for air. Placing his arms around her, he felt a wave reassurance by the nod she gave him between breaths. She was going to be fine.

He then saw Wesker, again turning to face them. Leon felt an overwhelming weight of helplessness at this scenario. Wesler was just standing to the left of the catwalk; his expression rippled with annoyance as he began to make his next approach. Leon aimed his sidearm again, with Ada doing the same.

"Still hoping your guns will change anything," Wesker slowly shook his head. "You've had your fun and games. I don't think you can last much longer."

"This guy doesn't know when to quit," Leon said.

"We're not going to win like this," Ada replied. "We need something much bigger."

Leon didn't see anything bigger. There was nothing they could use within the room, aside from the grenades that were attached to the belt of one of the dead men. If he could reach those, then they might just stand a chance of hurting Wesker. It was a long shot, but it was all they had left.

"Ada," Leon whispered. "Try to draw him off. I've got an idea."

"I figured you might," she said.

Wesker darted forward as Ada opened fire. Leon rolled to the right as Ada backed away, continuing to fire as her target dodged her shots. And then Leon made a run for one of the headless men. His body rushing with exhaustion as he took his eyes away from the fight, just long enough for him to reach down and snatch a grenade. And then he turned, only to find Wesker right in front of him. His eyes widened as Wesker swatted his gun out of his hand, clutching Leon's wrist.

"And what do we have here," he said with a terrible grin.

Leon watched, whilst struggling as Wesker grabbed the hand that held his so-called salvation. Leon saw Ada standing a few feet away, but she froze, as did he, when Wesker went for the pin on the grenade.

_Shit!_ Leon thought. _So much for that plan._

"The explosion might hurt a bit," Wesker said, his eyes burning bright with malice. "But it will not kill me, Mr Kennedy. Although I do think I might make an end of you quite nicely."

"Let him go, Wesker!" Ada said, keeping her gun raised.

"No," he said. And then he pulled the pin.

* * *

_I know, I've got a thing for cliffhangers. Sorry about that :) Anyway, I hope you liked this latest chapter. Please let me know what you think. And I'll have another update posted as soon as possible. Bye for now._


	24. Chapter 24

_I apologise to everyone who has been patient with me, in waiting for me to get my lazy arse into gear and update. Here it is finally. I hope you guys like it. _

_I do not own Resident Evil. It and all its characters (minus oc's of course) are the property of _CAPCOM.

* * *

**Resident Evil: Secrets Revealed**

**Chapter 24**

Leon Kennedy and Ada Wong were not fairing well at all. It was quite apparent, and would have been to anyone else who might witness the battle, that it would only be a matter of minutes before their opponent defeated them.

The obvious outcome was no fault of theirs, the fact that the odds were stacked so highly against then. Wilforn could see that those odds were working towards the end, that inevitable avalanche that would bury them both in their own blood.

Wesker indeed possessed great physical abilities, he thought. The thing that animated him, the coursed throughout his body, was simply too strong for regular human endurance. The duo lacked the proper resources to stand against such an enemy. Short-range combat was no the answer, but it was all they had in their immediate arsenal.

"What am I supposed to do?" Lisa said. She was still standing in front of him.

Wilforn saw the remaining flakes of dried blood, sitting beneath her nose. She was supposed to be guarding him, preventing any escape attempt he might try to make. But she was restless, agitated; she paced on the catwalk in front of him as the fight drew closer to its inevitable conclusion.

She appeared unsure to him. She was a fawn in the woods, and yet unlike any that had ever lost its way before. Her head shook frantically, and he could almost count down the seconds that would lead to her next outburst. He would need to act quickly.

"Lisa?"

"Shut up!"

"What do you plan to do once Wesker has me?" he asked. "Will you allow him to continue this charade he's created just for you? Is your life really a thing to be toyed with so easily?"

"You must have mistaking me for someone else. I'm no one's toy!"

"You will be if you remain with him."

"And what makes you any different, Wilforn?"

He concealed the faint sting he was dealt at hearing her call him that. However he couldn't help but feel the building vibration that began to run through the catwalk. Her emotions were becoming increasingly unstable. Her rage was escalating, as well as her deep confusion.

"Are you referring to Umbrella– "

"You're the one that let them do it!"

"I couldn't stop them back then," he replied. "But I assure you, I never wanted to let you go."

" And what do you expect from me now, Daddy?" the last word was drenched in bitterness. "You want me to follow you out of here? You want me to be your good little daughter?"

"Lisa– "

"No!" the catwalk shook. "Everything you've told me might very well be true, about f… him. But you weren't there when I needed you. He was there for me."

"He's done nothing but manipulate you, Lisa," Wilforn said. "That is all he does. All he truly case about is himself and his own rise to power in this world. My work was always secondary to you."

"And yet you let me go!"

"I couldn't stop them."

"You didn't even try!"

"And there isn't a day that passes where I don't regret that decision. If there is one true tragedy that I've experienced in my life, that was it. Believe me, I wanted to stop them."

Lisa's eyes widened horrifically, boiling with rage and something near that of lunacy. "But, you, didn't!"

The railing on either side of the catwalk began to bend and twist. Lisa's telekinetic power was falling further into instability. Wilforn could feel the floor giving in a fraction; it bent inward, and then outward, metal shrieking as it was deformed beneath his feet.

He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, looking off to the exit behind him. His escape. If he was going to leave then he couldn't wait any longer. His facility would be wiped out within the next half an hour at the most. He had to convince Lisa to come with him or he might lose her forever.

"Don't stay with him," he urged. "If you do it will only lead to your destruction in the end. He'll use you until there's nothing left."

"Shut your mouth!" she snapped. "I…. I can't… I'm trying to think."

"I can help you, Lisa. He can't. I can teach you how to strengthen your abilities without lies. I will not fill your head with deceit."

"But he's… " she trailed off, the muscles within her face creasing sharply, as her hands clenched and unclenched. "I remember you, but I don't know you. I don't know any of you. Get away from me!"

"Lisa, please!"

"All of you, everyone, just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Wilforn was then thrown through the air, along with everything else within thirty feet. The last thing he saw was Albert Wesker's body, enveloped in smoke and fire, as the man plummeted into the darkness beneath the catwalk.

* * *

The mountain of panic that Ada had felt, at seeing the pin leave the grenade, had ceased the moment her feet came away from the ground. Has had everything else.

A blur become her reality. Wesker and Leon's bodies vanished as she travelled upward, all oxygen exiting her mouth as she was slung like stone for that short couple of seconds. She heard the blast of the grenade before her body ever made contact with the floor. And then all that dominated her world was pain, a pain that felt as if it would remain until the agonising end of her life.

Her back and her head struck what might have been a wall, her body coming to a stop with such force that she blacked out before landing in a crumpled heap. It might have been seconds later than she came to. Or minutes. Or hours. She couldn't know for sure.

Her eyes opened lazily, and from where she lay on her chest she did her best to scan the area. All that she knew for certain, other than the tremendous discomfort that plagued every square inch of her, was that things looked entirely different to what they had only a minute before.

The area where Leon and Wesker had been standing was burnt black; small patches of flame flickered on the ground. To the right of the catwalk steps the railing had been bent outward, over the expanse of nothing, breaking in that spot all together. Leon was lying on the ground, unconscious, not far from where he had been previously standing.

Wesker was gone.

The things had changed beyond that single point. The chamber's precise shape had been warped. The walls were deformed, bending outwards; deep cracks crawled in different directions across the metal, like a deranged circulatory system. The catwalk was near demolished also, torn in half near the centre.

Wilforn and the girl were also no longer in the chamber. Only she and Leon remained.

_Is it over_?

Still enveloped within the drunken haze, she lifted herself from the ground. She couldn't see her sub machinegun, nor could her mind function in a way that would tell her to look for it. Her head was throbbing, and all she could think at that time was that she had to get to Leon.

Her legs gave out for a second, almost planting her face first into the floor before she was able to right herself. She attempted to shake off the grogginess that had taken hold, but found that she couldn't.

She had to wake up, she thought. She had to pull her body from the sludge that had encircled it and get herself into gear before Wilforn's lab was pull down around her.

_Come on. You can do this._

Her vision cleared only a fraction, which would have pleased her, had she not seen the figure that she now saw.

He had appeared out of nothing, and was now standing above Leon's sleeping form, Ada's blood froze, and she stopped moving. Her sluggish hand went for her Springfield, drawing it with less speed than she would have liked.

"Get away from him!" she raised the handgun to his head.

Daniel King wasn't smiling anymore. "Why?"

"Do it!"

"I could, you know," he said. "I could end him now. And I have my doubts about your shooting prowess right now. But this would be what you deserve."

Ada's head dipped, though she never took her eyes off of King. "You might be right."

"But?"

"But you're worse than I ever was, Daniel. Everything that I've done in my life has been– "

"For little sis. Yeah, the end justifies the means, blah blah yawn blah," he slouched, as if bored. "Maybe you're right about me, and I'm really this terrible thing that doesn't fit with the rest of the world."

She was getting tired of this. But even so, the threat of presented to Leon was very real. He had shown no signs of stirring and would be powerless if she missed her first shot. She couldn't miss.

"It was never an opinion, Daniel. It's a fact."

"But that's just who I am, Ada. I do the things I do because that's, just, me. There's really no other reason for it. The world is quite literally a playground for me. Except you, you repellent cunt of a woman! Everything I've done here is to make you realise that you will never be happy. Not as long as I'm still breathing."

"What happened back then," she said. "You brought all of that on yourself. You chose your actions, and I chose to put a stop to them. I was always a professional. You've never been anything other than a savage."

King smiled for the first time. "Careful, Ada. You might just hurt my feelings."

"Oh we wouldn't want that, would we?"

"And Mr Kennedy's life hangs in the balance. Can you shoot me before I open his neck?"

(Emergency. This facility will detonate in twenty minutes. All employees please proceed to evacuation train immediately.)

Ada's head seemed to triple in its savage aching at the sound of the automated mechanical voice. She fought to regain her focus as King's lips peeled back, revealed a grin that could slice through paper.

"Well you heart it. Everything's going down. I suppose I should bring this to a close. Ada. This is just for you."

Time seemed to slow, collapsing to a crawl as she watched King draw a short knife. He was still looking back at her, savouring her reaction as he prepared to go through with his last act of vengeance against her.

She pulled the trigger. And the gun jammed.

_No_!

In the fraction of time that fright had taken over her mind, she heard the gunshot. She wondered how she could have heard such a thing, as her gun had died within her hands. That was when she saw King stagger away from Leon. He was laughing.

She saw Leon rising to his feet, his sidearm firmly in his right hand. She felt a smile cross her lips before falling to her hands and knees. The impact against her body when hitting the wall had done more damage than she imagined. She just had no strength left in her.

"Ada!" Leon called to her.

"I'm ok," she replied. She didn't feel ok.

King wouldn't stop laughing. The volume rose to a howl, an utterly insane sound that chilled her spin, helping to sap her remaining crumbs of energy all the more.

"Nice one Mr Kennedy!" he said. "Not many people can play dead well enough to fool me. That was a one of a kind performance. If I had a hat I'd lift it to you right now."

Ada could see the blood, spilling out from a hole in his chest. The bullet had penetrated the heart. And yet King was still on his feet somehow.

_The Rapture virus_! _That's why he won't die. Why can't he just die_?

Leon's face conveyed the disgust he felt for King all to well. Ada knew that he was seconds away from firing again. He was indeed planning to kill King there and then.

"I don't see what's so funny, Phantom," he said, keeping his gun on King as he slowly stepped over to Ada. "You've got one last chance to give Ada that sample. If you do I might make this quick."

King raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but you _were _awake when the announcement came through, yes? Did Wesker's beating make you deaf?"

"We have to get out of here, Leon," Ada said. "He's not going to turn it over no matter what we do."

"Well the option to shoot Mr Kennedy is still on the table, Ada. Who knows? I might just hand it over."

Ada's brow twisted. "No you won't."

"No. I really won't," he said. "The sample is my total liberation from any dependency I ever had on other people."

"Well get ready to be un-liberated, you piece of shit!" Leon said.

"Don't," Ada urged, as Leon began to help her up with his free arm. "We have to leave. We can't get into this now. They'll be another time. Isn't that right, Daniel?"

"As you say, Ada dearest."

It was a stalemate. King wouldn't advance on them anymore, not with the time limit looming over like an eagerly awaiting grim reaper. And Leon didn't have enough bullets in his gun to end things before the complex was destroyed. For now it was over.

She saw wrinkled form on Leon's sweating head; it revealed his powerful hatred for King. It was perhaps just as strong as her feelings toward him. And as much as they both might want to kill the man where he stood, they couldn't remain where they were any longer.

She let Leon pull her close, his arm wrapped around her waiting, keeping her standing. She saw his reluctant nod, right before he fired his gun, emptying the magazine into King's body.

King reeled backwards, the force of each shot sending him stumbling into the wall to the left of the open area of the wasted catwalk. Red gushing wounds dotted his chest, however the pain he showed from each round fired was only slight. And the grin never left his face.

_He could have dodged_, she thought. _He knew it wouldn't kill him_!

Leon was then helping Ada to the door. She watched as King stayed where he was, propped against the wall, as his torso ran with deep red against the black of his clothes. She forced her sleepy eyes to remain open, keeping them locked on him until they reached the shredded doorway that led out of the chamber.

"This isn't over, Phantom," Leon promised.

"Oh, I know it isn't," King chuckled, then spat blood onto the floor. "Be seeing you, lovebirds. Enjoy what remains of your time together."

_I swear, Daniel. One day I am going to make a permanent end of you_!

* * *

Leon heard Ada wince, and softened his grip around her waist ever so slightly. She had told him she was fine, but he knew she was quickly fading. He had felt the lump on her skull, bulging under her hair, and he knew that it was bad. He had to hurry.

He helped her over some rubble in a half collapsed passage. It wasn't the first sign of destruction from the battles that had so far been fought, no doubt between Wesker's people and many dangers that Wilforn had placed in their path.

Nothing was left standing anymore. Wesker's troops littered the ground, as did Wilforn's security staff, and the stench of death clung to the air. Leon would be more than happy to see the end of this place. All he had to do was make sure he and Ada were on the surface before that happened.

(This facility will detonate in ten minutes.)

"Ah crap!" that was the last thing he wanted to hear. "We need to hurry."

"The n-northern exit shouldn't be f-far," Ada slurred. "Wesker's men broke through Wilforn's security for us."

"Well it's better than nothing," he said.

"Leon, if we don't get out of here- "

"Shut up!" Leon snapped. He continued to near drag her between debris and bodies. "I won't hear that. I'm not leaving you here."

"I'm not getting any better Leon. Y-you stand a better chance of... of surviving if you- "

She was cut off once more, only this time Leon hadn't needed to interrupt her. They were both sent crashing against the wall to their left as they reached a turning.

Ada sagged against the wall, and Leon momentarily saw her limp hand struggle to un-holster her gun. She could barely keep herself from collapsing.

_No_! _I'm not letting this happen_!

He rose to his feet, raising his aching arms and firing off several shots toward the thing that had collided with them. The snarling T-virus beasts from the surface howled in pain as the rounds punctured its chest. It fell dead, just five feet away from them.

Leon kept the handgun in his left, using his right hand to hoist Ada up again. He felt some relief when her arm weakly snaked itself over his shoulder. She was going to make it. He knew she would make it.

They were moving again. However Leon knew that their ten minutes wasn't going to last forever; the seconds were now pushing to light-like speeds, and Ada's feet were beginning to drag along the floor. Despite every effort she was slowly losing her battle with the unconsciousness world that wanted her so badly.

Fortunately they were met with a glimmer of hope. They had passed into the northern sector, locating the elevator that Wesker must have used. The thing that would lead them out of the Tartarus they'd been trapped in.

Leon pulled Ada to the door. He slammed the butt of his gun against the button to call the elevator back down. He briefly wondered who had traveled up, since Wesker must have been the last person to use the elevator?

_Who came through here_? _Thanks, unnamed jackass. Come on. Come on_!

Within what was probably a short time, but what felt like an eternity, the elevator reached the bottom. The doors slowly slid open, and Leon was then helping Ada into the cubic interior.

They were then moving towards the surface. Safety was awaiting them both at the top. All they had to do was reach that safety in time.

That was when Leon felt an explosion beneath them. Had the self-destruct be triggered prematurely, he wondered? Had he misjudged the time?

"That doesn't sound good," he murmured.

"Wesker and his people arrived in several choppers," Ada managed to say. "If no one made it up before us then there must be something left for us to use."

"I hope so, Ada."

"Even if there is, I'm as good as dead to my employers now."

Leon couldn't hold back the regret he felt at failing to help her. The sample she had been sent after was lost, along with her employer's promise to help her. He couldn't imagine what she might be going through.

He knew now how much she had suffered in the past decade. Her entire life had been dedicated to finding her sister. And now it seemed that the dream of being reunited with her, of discovering the truth, was forever out of her reach.

_No_, he thought. _This isn't done yet. I have to help her do this. I owe her too much. I can't give up on her._

Leon lost his balance when another explosion shook the floor beneath his feet. The floor felt as if it was sinking. His pulse quickened when he realised that they only had seconds before the floor gave out.

He looked into Ada's eyes, holding her close as she looked back at him. Despite her wounds - and the injury to her head, one that he was still extremely concerned over - an unwavering calm lay within her expression. She smiled at him. They both knew that they could very likely plunge to their deaths at any second, and yet it seemed that Ada had already made peace with this.

She slowly moved closer, using what little fumes she was running on to move. He felt her grip around his neck constrict. And then she buried her head into his shoulder. His heart drummed hard as he held her there, as the floor shook violently.

"Ada- "

"I know, Leon. I know. Just don't let go."

"I'm not going anywhere."

The door suddenly opened, and they were both looking towards an open area that was cloaked in early morning light.

A large helipad stood a few metres away from them. Relief pored into Leon's mind, pushing new life into his limbs. He saw two black choppers, sitting alone, eager to be made useful.

"Great. Let's go,' Leon said.

He was then moving again. That was when a section of the floor caved under Ada's feet.

He turned toward her, horror gripping every nerve as she began to fall. He drove himself into motion, falling to his chest just near the edge; his hand grasped for her arm, while his other went to the door frame, attempting to keep himself from being dragged down. His fingers found Ada's wrist, and the sudden jolt in his arm punished him with unforgiving pain.

As he lay there, looking down at her, he could see the look on her face. That knowing expression, the one that told a person that fate just wasn't in their favour. He knew she would never be able to pull herself up. Despite his injuries being less than hers, his own strength was wavering, along with his fingers that slid over her clammy skin.

"Ada! Ada... c-come on. Don't let go of me. You hear?"

She didn't speak. Her face told him everything, along with the shaking of her head.

"Don't even think about it! You said it 'Don't let go.' Well I'm not letting go!"

"Get out now, Leon," she said in a strained voice.

"No! You're coming with me! You got that?"

He fought to maintain his grip, even as he felt the stinging of his own tears. He hated the accepting mask that had fallen over her face. He didn't want to see it anymore. He wanted to see her fighting to survive. That was what she was, he thought. A survivor.

"We don't both have to die, Leon. Just... g-go!"

He was terrified in that moment. That fear, the one that wracked his chest to pieces, had been felt before. Flashes from six years ago assaulted his thoughts. Ada. Falling. He hadn't the strength to keep her from that terrible descent.

He was seeing it again. The woman who ruled his every waking thought was about to pass into that darkness forever.

_No_! _No, no, no, no_!

Leon felt possessed, as his hand became like iron around her wrist. And suddenly he was screaming, roaring through his own pain, slowly lifting Ada's weight upwards, bringing her back to him. Her eyes seemed to widen at this alteration to her fate.

"Your sister isn't dead!" he said. "You have to believe that. Don't give in just because some lunatic took this opportunity away. You are stronger that!"

He felt his muscles crying out for release, so much so that he thought his arm might depart from his shoulder. But he never let go.

"Leon," Ada said.

She was finally fighting, bringing enough force back from the dead to help pull herself from the brink. She brought her other hand upward, grasping the edge of the elevator and pulling with him.

Leon aided her the rest of the way out. His arm was on fire. He dragged her toward the helipad. The effort became more arduous than before, and that was when he noticed that she had passed out.

"Shit, no!"

He eased her down to the ground near the pad, lowering her gently onto her back. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. But she was still alive. However with the impact to her head being what it was, the last thing he wanted was for her to fall asleep.

"Come on, Ada," he said. "Don't do this to me now. Ada!"

He was so consumed with his concern for her, that he didn't hear the numerous boot steps until they were almost ten feet away. And when he turned his head in their direction a cold panic rocked his entirely being.

"Agent Kennedy, sir," one of them said.

It wasn't the enemy. It was something else. It was his own people. Leon recognised their gear, not to mention a couple of familiar faces; the team that Hunnigan must have sent in search of him. The back up that he had wanted as far from Ada Wong as possible.

They had finally arrived. And Ada was unconsciousness.

They had lowered their weapons as soon as he had turned to look in their direction. They knew him, and he knew them. This, of course, was precisely the problem.

_Fuck_! _This is_...

There wasn't a chance in hell that he would be able to get her away from them. No matter what scenarios he skimmed over he couldn't see anyway out for her.

The priorities had to change for the time being. He couldn't torture himself with the possibilities. Not yet. She needed help more than anything else. Her freedom would have to take a step back for the sake of her life.

Making sure that she survived was more important to him than anything else. The consequences for his every action were nothing compared to that.

"I'm sorry, Ada," he whispered, as the team drew in.

* * *

_I know this wasn't an action packed chapter, but I still hope you enjoyed it. And again, sorry for taking this long with updating. Please let me know what you think. Your opinions are always appreciated :) The next chapter will be the final. Hopefully it won't disappoint. If I've left anything unanswered so far its because I'm working on a sequel, which I hope won't take me as long to write lol. Bye for now._


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